


One and Only

by SuperCerulean



Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games), DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2020-10-28 02:30:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20771057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperCerulean/pseuds/SuperCerulean
Summary: Summary:Jason Todd is powerful. He holds your heart and soul in his hand and he doesn’t even know it. He could shatter it and his grip wouldn’t loosen, holding onto every piece of you with an iron fist. And that’s exactly what he does. It’s only when you’re thrown into a spiral of darkness and heart break that you realize watching him from afar will do nothing to put you on his radar. You’ll have to do something else. Something more drastic…Warnings:ANGST. This will likely not have a happy ending. Language, mentions of sex, Violence, light gore but not very much. T O X I C mindset. Serioulsy, this is very dark and I don’t intend to romanticize or condone any of these thoughts or actions.(Originally posted to my Tumblr @Super-cerulean)





	1. Chapter 1

His name was Jason. Admittedly, he as somewhat of a mystery and the what you knew about him was very limited. Maybe not enough to validate your feelings entirely, but enough to go on. His last name alone took weeks to find out. He was apparently legally dead, but that didn’t seem to stop him from becoming a regular at the bookstore you worked at. 

It happened suddenly and all at once. Never had you felt such feelings for another person until Jason Todd walked into the store. Love at first sight had always been a myth, but you felt it. As soon as your eyes caught him scanning the tall shelves of books, you were done for. Why it happened, you weren’t sure, but now you were in too deep to care. 

He came in on Sundays; not every week, but often enough to make it a routine. You took shifts on Sundays as much as you possibly could in fear of missing him. Your job was simple and kept you behind the register for hours, but you didn’t mind. You had liked the job before, but seeing him made it that much better. 

Sundays were always anxious for you. There was never any guarantee that he’d show up, but you held hope every week that he might. Seeing him was a blessing, but talking to him was heaven in itself. He had the kind of voice that made every word feel like silk and a smile that made your heart sing. 

It was unprecedented, illogical and completely insane...but he had your heart. Not even just that. He had your mind, your body and your soul and the only thing you had of his was his purchasing history. That would change though. After what had to have been months of watching and speaking to him only to ring up his books and wish him a good day, the desire to finally push forward and into something more outweighed the anxiety holding you back. After all, how could he ever know how you felt if you wouldn’t even talk to him outside of polite small talk. 

Every Sunday shift now consisted of a pep talk throughout the day to keep from backing out i hopes that when he did show up, you’d be ready. His erratic appearances made it hard to be prepared, though, You never knew if he would be the next person to walk through the door or if he would even come in at all. The anxiety had you constantly jumpy and tapping away at whatever was in reach. 

It was like that for weeks. He was gone for a long time and you were afraid you might never see him again. The thought was unbearable. Even the idea of never seeing him looking through the selection of novels again made your entire being ache. It was terrifying and suffocating so much so that you would have to close your eyes and count down from one hundred. 

Panic set in around the fifth week. He’d disappeared for longer, but something made you fear that this time would be different. Like maybe your sudden change in attitude led to some sick twist of fate that took him away somewhere. Somewhere you might not ever find. 

Thankfully this hellish scenario turned out to be your thoughts getting the better of you. He came later than he usually did, the sun having set ages ago and leaving your store lit in atmospheric warm lighting. The store really was much prettier when it was dark outside. You had momentarily abandoned your space at the register to stock the shelves with some new books that had just come in. They had been staring at you all day, reprimanding you for ignoring your role waiting for someone who just might have left you without a word of warning. At this point in the day, you’d assumed he wouldn’t show again and had decided to do the job you had been avoiding in favor of seeing him come in as soon as he was in sight. 

Your thoughts ran wild as you put the books away. You dragged the ladder out of the storage room absentmindedly and dragged your feet as you brought over the cart of books. You started with cleaning out the shelf of older books that no one had bought in a long time. It was mindless work, which almost always led to negative thoughts. He might have been gone forever. His face was already fading from your memories and there was nothing you could do about it. You could throw yourself off the ladder for not studying it more intently the last time he’d been there. The thought held no reality to it, but acted as a reprimand for yourself. You wouldn’t actually throw yourself off of the top of the ladder...at least not intentionally.

The bell on the door of the front door almost scared you off of it. You had been lost in thought and pressing your hand into the empty space were a book should have been. Did you really forget to pick it up off of the cart? You stumbled, the ladder shaking suddenly and almost collapsing. Somehow, you managed to catch yourself on the book shelf and regain your stability just as you heard the customer coming down the aisle. 

“If you need help, I’ll be down in a moment; I just need to finish this up,” you said, resting your head on the shelf to calm your racing heart. Your legs were still shaking a bit after your close call so the ladder stumbled again, this time not as violently as you hurriedly finished the shelf you were working on. Suddenly, the ladder stopped shaking and you felt it being pressed firmly onto the ground. 

“Seems like you may need more help than me.” That was all it took. You straightened up immediately when you heard his voice, shaking the ladder despite Jason’s grip and sending you flying backwards. The feeling of falling was nothing compared to the lurch of your heart when you heard his voice and your world would have been spinning regardless of if you’d hurled yourself off the ladder. You weren’t able to form a lucid enough thought to even predict what would happen to you. Thoughts of falling into a painful heap on the floor hadn’t crossed your mind at all, but the feeling of your head knocking against something hard was enough to set you straight. 

Honestly, the first thing that followed that graceless fall was a blackout. It was likely only for a few seconds or so, but when you opened your eyes again you didn’t know what had happened. The first thing you remembered was hearing Jason talking to you as you were putting the books away. The thought of it spread warmth throughout your entire being. You’d missed him so much. The feeling of his voice wrapping you into a strong embrace was intense in your fuzzy head. You hadn’t even seen the man but you were already falling in love all over again. 

Your head cleared a bit more after a few seconds and you felt the embrace a bit more literally than you had initially. It was hard to tell at first, but you were certainly in somebody’s arms, half slumped on the ground. You could hear a voice, but you couldn’t quite put together what they were saying. It was all foreign gibberish going in one ear and out the next. You certainly did a number on yourself coming down from that ladder. Eyes. You hadn’t thought to open them yet. Your hazy mind finally thought to take in your surroundings and your eyes fluttered open through heavy lids. 

“I think you’re bleeding. You might have to go to a hospital…” A gasp escaped your lips and your eyes shot open fully. Without much thought, you jerked your head suddenly when you realized you were actually lying on the ground in his arms. In. His. Arms. If the movement hadn’t halfway knocked you out again you might have screamed. 

“Woah, hey it’s okay. You know me right? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to creep up on you like that,” he said, helping you upright more slowly. Jason seemed to have caught you after you hit the second shelf, so you were both sitting on the ground between the aisle. The fuzzy haze smothering your thoughts spread from your head to your entire body as you realized how close you were to him. This had never happened before. The feeling of his arms around you and his chest pressed against your shoulder made thinking impossible even without the head injury. At least you had some kind of excuse for the speechlessness 

“Just take a minute to recuperate. You hit your head really hard.” He watched you carefully and the feeling of his eyes on you so completely was unexplainable. Almost like your soul itself was trembling beneath his gaze. Finding the words you needed to put together took much longer than it should have and your voice felt shallow and wavering.

“I'm surprised I didn't break the shelf,” you muttered. Jason smiled a bit at that, but he still had a worried expression. 

“Me too. I think you really need to go to a hospital, though. This looks pretty bad.” He touched your head where you must have hit it gently, but it still made you wince away impulsively. He apologized, but you barely heard it over your own anger for pulling away from his touch. 

“Let’s see how you do standing up.” Jason adjusted himself so he was crouching and took hold of your arms just above your elbows to ease you up gently. Your head swam at the movement, but the throbbing didn’t intensify as it had the first time you had tried moving. Jason managed to get you to your feet and you felt like you could stand on your own. You still felt a bit dizzy though and swayed when you tried to take a step. 

“I’ll probably be fine…” you said quietly. 

“Maybe, but it’s better safe than sorry. I can call a texi for you to take you to Gotham General. I don’t think you need an ambulance and they’ll charge you an arm and a leg.” 

“O-okay.” The words had barely managed to move past your lips in your shock and confusion. The head injury made your thoughts twist and tangle together in your mind and the proximity to Jason was making it all happen at three times the speed it should have been. Jason’s arms coming around you only worsening your condition and for a moment you thought you might pass out again. He held your left hand in his before him as a way for you to steady yourself and pressed his other onto your other side.

He led you out of the shop and onto the street before it. There was only a motorcycle parked along the sidewalk and a few other cars further down the street that you doubted were his. 

“Do you think you’ll be alright getting to the hospital on your own? I’d go with you but I have something I needed to do tonight.” Your eyes ran over the motorcycle quickly, jumping back to him after you had taken in the sight. It was something you'd never seen from your meetings in the book store but it fit him more than you thought a standard car would. Seeing something new about him energized you, giving you more courage to talk to him in hopes of learning more. Now could be your last chance to make your move and wasting it in silence would surely throw you into a depression. 

“I-I think I’ll manage," you said finally. “If not, the driver can just drop me on the doorstep for the doctors.”

“That is true. I could probably tip him extra o make sure you don’t die in the car.”

“In a Gotham taxi?”

“Yeah, I’m realizing now that Uber might have been a better idea.”

There was a bigger smile on his face than you’d seen before as he spoke that felt like a ray of sunshine piercing through a cloudy haze. You took a moment to really look at him up close as he tried to hail a cab to stop for you. The hand he’d held in front of him was free now as he waved his arm out towards the street. It seemed to have moved on it’s own accord upwards, sneaking past your awareness until it had nearly reached his face. Panicking the completely uncalled for movement, you quickly shifted your destination to grip onto his jacket instead. He glanced down at you with a worried expression again, but didn’t say anything. Finally, a car stopped and he led you into the back of it. 

“Gotham General,” he said firmly. “And try to drive carefully.” The driver seemed to catch the situation you were in and nodded. 

"You’ll be there soon, don't worry," he said as he paid the driver. You nodded, feeling the movement shoot pain straight to where you'd hit your head. "I really am sorry about all this."

"It's alright...It was nice seeing you again anyway," you said. 

"You too. Next time I visit, I'll try not to scare you half to death.” 

“Next time?”

“Yeah, I don’t plan on leaving again anytime soon. Try not to get sick of me,” he smiled. Before you could muster a response, Jason was closing the door and you were off to the hospital, more aware of the warmth in your heart than the pain in your head. Little did you know that in a few hours, that concussion would seem about as dire as a papercut. 

The next night you couldn’t believe everything that had happened with Jason. 24 hours in the hospital under supervision was apparently all you needed to be cleared so you were able to get home. You could still feel his arms holding you and hear his voice dancing along the skin of your neck. Never could you have planned such a perfect way to gain his attention. Even if you did plan it, you weren’t sure you would have the guts to go through with throwing yourself into a bookshelf like that. It had to have been fate throwing you into his line of sight. The interaction had been so great that it made everything in Gotham so much better. The trash blowing across the streets glimmered in the moonlight. The broken neon signs twinkled like stars and reflected rainbows of color off of the dirty street puddles. Even the humid mist felt like gusts of magic against your skin. Even the couple very clearly up to late night debauchery on the roof across from your apartment complex were just restless lovers looking for a chance to be together in an eternally busy city. It was sweet, honestly, despite the lack of privacy. Your eyes lingered a second longer than they typically would before turning away in disgust. You looked just long enough to catch a glint of armor shining against the moonlight.

'Strange' you thought. Moving closer to your floor-length window and dropping your bags, you looked closer. It was odd to be watching two people in a heated moment like that, but curiosity got the better of you. In all fairness, they were out having sex on a roof in Gotham. 

Looking closer, it was hard to make out too many details; especially at night. There was some light coming from the city around them though, illuminated enough to be seen. The guy was definitely wearing some kind of armor, but it was hard to see exactly what it was or to decipher the logos on it. The bright red helmet on the ground was what gave away who it was. Only a quick moment was allowed for curious thoughts over who was truly on the other roof. His head tipped back momentarily out of the shadows and his face was visible through the window. 

Then there was an earthquake. 

An earthquake of pain and anger and heartbreak that shook the entirety of your being. Your vision blurred, your hands shook, everything was suddenly in white hot fire. You weren’t sure if the sound of your voice was real or not, but the feeling of your heart tearing itself apart was. How could he? Everything had been perfect just hours ago hadn’t it? Jason had been worried when you fell off of the ladder. He’d cared about you, even going out of his way to send you to the hospital. So why would he do something like that? Whoever he was with, you couldn’t tell but it wasn’t you. It was someone else. Someone he thought was better. 

The earthquake shook a lamp off of your table. The feeling of it soaring out of your hands and into the wall behind you felt better. It felt like you threw some of the pain with it. You tried it again; this time with the glass bottle of wine you’d left out a few days ago. Then it was the glass cups in your kitchen and the plates in the cupboards. Ripping things apart felt just as good, so you did that next; ripping apart everything you could find. When you caught something you couldn’t rip it made you angrier. You didn’t remember when you picked up the kitchen knife or when you turned the stuffing in your couch into the weightless flakes of a snow globe. It wasn’t enough. Nothing was, it seemed. The depth of your feelings for him reached deep into your entire being and the pain of what he’d done reached even farther. 

There wasn’t an earthquake anymore. It was worse; a black hole. Small enough to fit deep inside of you, but powerful enough to rip every ounce of your being into pieces. There was wetness against your cheeks and hands that you couldn’t quite place. Tears? Blood from your haphazard wielding of the knife? Wine splattering from the broken bottle? The Wine. Why did you throw that? It was something that could help. There might be more. You stood up from the heap you’d collapsed in momentarily to dash clumsily into the kitchen. There had to be something. Beer wouldn’t be strong enough. It had to be something that would leave a trail of fire and cauterize the singularity building in your chest. 

What you picked up, you weren’t sure of, but it wasn’t as full as you would have liked it to be. It was something that made your throat burn, even more so when you realized it had been ragged from screaming. The bottle didn’t break this time when you threw it, but the fire from it made your head fuzzy and your chest burn. Maybe it was working. 

Your eyes couldn’t bare to look through the window again. It was huge and reached from the ceiling of the living room to the tan carpet. You couldn’t actually see the carpet anymore; it was covered in white stuffing splattered with hues of pink and red in some places. What you could see was the other roof. The window drew your gaze no matter how hard you tried to avoid it. If he was still out there, you knew the sight would tear you open again and you didn’t think there was any more alcohol that could sew you back together again.

There was paint in your hands before you could even think about it. It was supposed to be for redoing your bedroom, but this was much more important. The beige color looked better on the window anyway. It almost looked like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Like it was just another wall with no power to harm you. There was more than enough paint to cover the surface and you found yourself covered from your fingertips up to your elbows when it finally touched every corner. After that was done, you found you had no more energy. It must have been a pathetic sight to see. You collapsed in front of the paint-coated glass in a nest of bloodied cotton, broken glass and sorrow. That wasn’t much of a concern though because you lived alone. You had always been alone. Now it was looking as if you might stay alone. Maybe forever.


	2. Epiphany

The next day, there was a light. A glimmer of hope. A single star in the vacuum of space that bred a new hope for you. Maybe it was the cocktail of your head injury and a hangover, but the next afternoon you knew there was a way. All hope was not lost. It came as a dream or maybe a hazy thought lingering just beneath complete consciousness. However it came to be, it was your savior. Something to fix everything and to make it all okay. 

When you woke up completely, you were able to put logic behind it. The thought of Jason with someone else twisted a knife in your already wounded heart, but you had to think about it. The key to everything was what you had found out the night before. In the haze of betrayal and anguish it had completely gone under the radar. He was the Red Hood. Now that your mind was clearer you could think back and recognize the armor and the helmet. His face was still imprinted into the deepest parts of your mind, so the fact was impossible to dispute. But this was a good thing. It was the key to everything. 

You didn’t blame Jason for being with someone else. How could you? Now that you knew who he really was, it was no wonder that you couldn’t hold his attention. He was a superhero. How could a bookstore clerk ever be interesting enough to gain his attention. The only time he’d paid much mind to your existence was when you’d fallen off the ladder. Naturally, such a situation would tap into his alter ego, even for a split second. That was the key, though. In order to even give your love a chance, you couldn’t be just a bookstore clerk. That would never be enough and it was clear he had to outsource to find someone more interesting. Whoever he was with had to be someone who was also a hero for him to expose his own identity so casually. How could you compete with that? The thought of becoming a hero yourself had crossed your mind, but that wouldn't be enough. He already had someone like that. You had to be better. More interesting and more dangerous. 

You had to be like him. 

The real question was how. Once the thought had materialized you didn’t have any quarrels. If these were the lengths you’d have to go for love then that wouldn’t be a problem. The real problem was how you could become good enough at any kind of super-lifestyle to achieve anything. There were plenty of two-bit mobsters and wannabe criminals in Gotham. You had to surpass even that. Villain wasn’t enough, you had to be a fucking supervillain. The thought was exciting and made your dead heart awaken in your chest. It wouldn't be easy, though. Doing enough to set yourself apart from the rest would be difficult, but no one ever said love was easy. 

The life changing plan completely overrode any logical thought directed towards the state of your apartment. The mess went almost completely unnoticed as a new wave of thinking overtook you. The drink from the previous night hadn’t been as strong as you might have wanted it to be, so the dull ache in your brain was only a light hangover; nothing bad enough to keep you from going to work for your afternoon shift. You’d almost forgotten you needed to work until your phone sent an alarm an hour or so before you needed to be there. Calling in was a passing thought, but the desire to read up on crime in the city and the most notorious criminals outweighed your laziness. There weren’t quite as many non-fiction resources at the shop, but you could always bring your laptop. So long as the work was done and customers weren’t ignored, management didn’t really care what you did.

The only time you really thought about your actions the previous night was in the shower. Paint just happened to be very difficult to scrub off, and the sight of it accompanied by scabbed over cuts against your skin made your mind halt for a moment. The reality of the situation came in a sudden wave that for some reason felt like an overwhelming sense of despair. It was like a sudden moment of clarity where the rational part of your consciousness wondered what you were doing. How far would you go for a guy you barely even knew? Then your reality came back as quick as it had gone, leaving you with an answer. As far as you needed to go. 

The book store had been pretty much the same as you’d left it the night before. It was messier since you’d left much of it unfinished due to the fall, but it wasn’t too bad. It only took about ten minutes to finish putting away the books and cleaning up what was left from the previous day. After that was done, another sweep of the shop led you to the sections you normally paid little attention to. The tiny nonfiction section towards the back held a few books containing information on some of Gotham’s biggest villains, but there truly wasn’t much material. You managed to skim through those books quickly, growing frustrated with the scarcity of content that would actually help. Instead, you found yourself putting the books back and setting to looking for things on your laptop. 

Not many people came in, so most of your time was available for conducting your research. There was a notebook you had at home that had previously acted as a journal that lasted for about three weeks. Now, you found a use for it again in noting things of importance for later. There were only a few things that needed to be done in the shop, so you ended up neglecting them until about halfway through your shift. Then, you finally got up from the cashier’s desk and set to looking for a broom to sweep through the shop quickly. The notes and research hadn’t been the most interesting thing to pour all of your time over, but the thought of what you were using the information for drove you to finding passion on it. The break was welcomed though, as it gave your racing mind and tired eyes a much needed break. 

Disguising your identity would be an important part of your plan. What kind of clothes did criminals usually wear? Some of them had special armor, but it seemed that others had their own style. Was that armored too? Or was it just custom clothing that was the same as the kinds of clothes you’d buy at a store? A random thought of Riddler going through a department store for a new costume brought a smile to your face as you swept dust into the pan near the front desk. 

“Seems like you made it through the night.” The voice shot right through your heart and you didn’t have to turn around to know it was Jason. This time he hadn’t given you as much of a shock, but your hands still found themselves tightening around the stick of the broom. He seemed to notice this and his eyes drifted to where you were holding it.

“Hey, I didn’t do that, did I?” You were confused for half a second before you remembered the hasty bandages you’d thrown over the cuts on your arms. A flash of your rampage the previous night ran through your mind and you felt embarrassed. Like he would be able to tell why your hands had been injured. He seemed to be waiting for you to respond though, so you cleared your throat before speaking. 

“No, I just...cut myself trying to make dinner last night.” 

“On both hands?” 

“There may have been some drinking involved,” you said. It was kind of true; there bad been alcohol involved at some point. That was probably after you'd torn the couch apart though. You honestly couldn't remember. Jason smiled a bit at that, seeming to relax. The shift in his demeanor left your heart hammering more so than it had been. How could you have been so angry with him before. He was like an angel. An angel that came back a second day in a row; something he never did. 

“So...I guess you haven’t skipped town again yet.” 

“Not yet. I was hoping to get some relaxation in before going back to work," he explained.

“Right, that makes sense,” you replied. Sweeping kept your restless hands busy, but it seemed that you had finished cleaning the shop just as Jason had come in. Now you held the tools a bit awkwardly, afraid to test if your legs could support your weight when you moved. His appearance always made them go weak. 

"I did remember that I had come in here wanting to buy something, though," Jason said. "I was planning to ask about you, but I didn't expect to see you working so soon."

"It wasn't as bad as it looked." You moved to your desk, glad to have something to do. The broom and dustpan were set out of the way as you logged onto the computer. "What were you looking for?" Jason came to stand in front of the counter, huffing out a low sigh. You chanced a glance up towards him, only making it to his shoulder before you retreated, feeling his eyes already on you.

"My copy of Frankenstein got...lost. I was looking for another one."

"Ah, that’s cool,” you said, typing in the query into the system. “I really like that one.” Once it showed up, you gestured for him to follow, nearly tripping over the dustpan as you left the computer. The embarrassment kept you from looking back at him, but you heard him chuckle a bit as you righted yourself.

"You don’t need the ladder do you?"

"No," you replied indignantly as Jason laughed at your defensive tone. Your own heart stuttered and you scratched at your nose to cover the smile fighting it’s way onto your face. "I fall off one time and suddenly I’m a clumsy moron...”

“Well you did almost crack your head open on the book case.”

“Almost. I didn’t actually do it.”

“Surprisingly,” Jason stated. You stopped in front of the fiction section where the book would be. Jason followed you into the aisle and watched as you skimmed over the colorful spines of the books. Embarrassingly enough, your mind kept wandering to him and his proximity, making you have to search the same section almost three times. You were beginning to panic, searching more erratically through the authors name’s looking for ‘Shelley’. 

“Is this it?” Jason asked, reaching over your head. You looked up, eyes following his hand after hesitating on his face. It was hard not to stare at him, but meeting his eyes was impossible. When his gaze cut back down to you, you immediately looked to the book he’d pulled out, taking it as he lowered it towards you.

“Y-yeah I think so. Good eye.” Jason tilted his head somewhat, watching as you examined the book to avoid looking at him. 

“You sure that fall didn’t do any real damage?” He laughed as you rolled your eyes, brushing past him and heading back towards the computer. Despite the attitude you showed, your mind was still reeling as you rang up his purchase. You thought of doing something more while you held his attention. Maybe attempting to get his number or something like that. Unfortunately, it seemed that when he made it to the counter, his attention had already moved on. He stared down at his phone, typing quickly as he absently payed for the book and you bagged it. 

“See you around?” You asked, eyes glued to the device that had stolen his attention. He nodded, looking at you and shooting a quick smile. 

“Yeah, see you,” he repeated. He thanked you, turning and heading towards the door with furrowed brows and a frown on his face. That had been when you really decided to go through with your plan. You thought maybe things could be different for a split second, but that idea was trashed by the ease at which he lost interest in you. The sudden shift had prodded at the wound in your heart enough to propel you into action, immediately returning to your laptop to begin your research with racing thoughts and a racing heart. 

Getting into the criminal underworld would be the first step to truly going through with your plan. Finding a gang and joining wouldn’t be that difficult. The criminals in gotham weren’t that discreet about recruiting thugs and other workers of the sort. The difficulty came from choosing who to work for. According to your research, vIllains seemed to make a name for themselves in a few different ways, but many overlapped. There were those who had always had skills that they were able to put to use when they became criminals, those who gained power suddenly, and sometimes those who overlapped. You took notes and made diagrams to try and understand the circumstances, but it became very complicated very quickly. It was hard to keep up with everyone and their stories and who would be the least likely to screw you over. 

There were many super-villains in the city who you felt you could draw inspiration from. Harley Quinn had been the first name you were drawn to after having read up on her. She seemed to be the best bet for accomplishing your ultimate goal of winning Jason’s heart and likely had insight from her own experience. Despite this, it seemed too far fetched thats he’d actually want to help you. Even if she did, you needed to learn how to be a criminal from someone who didn’t have her skills. Harley was an amazing gymnast and was able to transfer that skill into being a villain. You on the other hand, were not and there wasn’t any special talent you could think of that might work in the same way. Technology was a possibility to jump in. Freeze had kind of done that and Firefly definitely relied on it. The problem was that tech like that was hard to come by unless you were some kind of super genius. That wouldn’t help at all and working under them wouldn’t give you the knowledge you needed. Instead, you decided to narrow your search to people whom would help your situation more. 

There was always Penguin and Two Face. They came into the criminal world and gained power mostly on their own without anything giving them a boost aside from their personalities and actions. Black Mask had crossed your mind too, but there was talk of him being at war with Red Hood. Speaking of, there was actually a lot of information about Red Hood online too. It was strange reading about it because it seemed completely different from the Jason you knew. He was involved in all kinds of gangs and illegal activities but still acted somewhat as a hero. It was confusing, but you did your best to understand.

Deciding which criminal to work under felt like picking which type of heroin to use. They were all dangerous, but Penguin seemed a bit less erratic than Two-Face. The latter was known to act very impulsive and his separate personalities made it hard to stay on his good side. Cobblepot was far from safe, but he was slightly more predictable. He had also seemed to climb to the top of Gotham’s food chain on his own, so there would be a lot to learn from him. Once that was decided, the next step was actually getting involved. 

You started by spending time in places where his gang was known to be, sometimes even at night- which was never a smart idea in Gotham. If you stayed out of sight it was actually pretty easy to catch bits and pieces of information from his lower level thugs. No wonder they got caught over and over. The thugs weren’t that smart, so if you followed for long enough you were bound to find something. It was on one night where you found the perfect two goons to follow that you were finally able to launch yourself into the criminal underground. Well, more like dip your foot in the shallow end. Something was better than nothing, right?

It happened late into the night while you were tailing two guys whom you’d heard mention Penguin. It was kind of a stretch but it had been quiet for a few days and no one seemed to be talking about him so you took whatever scraps you could get. The guys were talking about how in debt they were and how much money they needed to scrape together when they started talking about Penguin’s gang. 

“This is suicide. We should just turn around and try that restaurant again,” one of them was saying. The other scoffed, turning slightly to face the other. You were behind covered mostly by a hoodie and a loose leather jacket, but you still shifted a bit out of view and pretended to be involved with something on your phone. They hadn’t noticed you yet, but you’d have to get out of sight again soon and follow from a greater distance. 

“They practically laughed in our faces last time. This is the only way we’re gettin’ anything done in this shit hole city.”

“Maybe we leave then. We can start over in Metropolis or somethin’.”

“If we can’t kick it in Gotham, then what makes you think we’ll make it anywhere else?” The second man went silent, sighing after coming up with no response. “We gotta’ make our own way and this is it. Penguin lost a shit ton of his crew because of the bat last week. This is our chance to get in.”

“And that doesn’t freak you out? The job’s open cause Batman took the last guys out?”

“Like I said, we don’t got many options here. Let’s just get this over with.” By then you heard enough. A chance to get into the Penguin’s gang was right here and all you had to do was follow these guys to the location. Since you’d heard what you needed, you fell back more, shortcutting through alleys and weaving across streets to stay out of sight. Usually the alleys were the last place you’d risk disappearing into, but it was exceptionally quiet since Batman had come through so recently. Most criminals in the area were waiting for things to cool down before they were on the streets. The thought of coming into contact with Gotham’s most notorious vigilante did slow your stride a bit. Just the idea of him was terrifying even when you weren’t a criminal but he was famed for being brutal. It’d probably only take a single hit and he’d send you to the hospital. Still, the fear of losing Jason was greater even than the fear of ending up on Batman’s hit list, so you pushed the thoughts aside and followed the guys to your opening. 

Naturally, the meetup was at the Iceberg lounge. You probably could have figured that one out yourself without jumping between alleys and streets trying to follow the two guys. Whatever the case was, you followed them through the club and into one of the back rooms. It opened up into a huge storehouse where there had to be at least thirty guys. They were all very athletic looking and a lot of them seemed to know each other. You were definitely the odd one out in more ways than one, but you stood your ground and waited near the center of the room. Most of the chatter around you was about the gang and a lot of them talking about other gangs they’d been in. Someone even said that they’d worked for Riddler, Harley Quinn and Mr. Freeze at the same time once. It was intimidating to say the least, but thankfully a loud whistle drew everyone into attentive silence. 

“Alright, shut the hell up and listen!” The voice boomed. The lack of accent immediately let you know that it wasn’t Cobblepot speaking. It was some other guy, standing on top of a crate or something. “Obviously Penguin’s busy doing important shit, so I’m the one in charge of recruiting. We’re in need of some extra hands, but I need to know you lackeys can follow orders and get the job done.”

The guy’s eyes darted through the crowd, likely sizing everyone up. The moment his eyes landed on you, he cracked a smile. “You lost or something?” The sudden attention made you almost want to cower in fear. There was a very hostile energy in the room and when everyone turned their attention to you, it felt like your entire being wanted to crawl into a hole. You thought you’d run or throw up, but it was when your eyes met the overseer's eyes that something clicked. You were responding before you could even think about what you were going to say. 

“And what’s that? Jackass henchman who can’t keep their last two brain cells from fighting over which leg goes first?” The overseer raised an eyebrow and there were noises of offense around you. 

“Watch it. Keep that up and you’ll find out first hand what you’re missing,” one of the guys beside you said. You didn’t take your eyes off of the overseer though, posture shifting to mimic the facade of confidence you’d suddenly conjured. It came out of nowhere and your heart was racing a mile a minute. Somehow it didn’t show and you were putting on an act you didn’t even know you could do. 

“Pinhead punching bags are a dime a dozen around here, but that’s not gonna’ help you keep a business running. You can have as many as you want, but all it takes is one Batman to take a whole squad down. Maybe if you had some goons who did their research you’d last longer on the streets.”

“And that’s you?” 

“Could be. I guarantee I could get more done than five of your best guys out here.” 

“Nice speech n’ all, but you look like you’ve never even seen a gun before.” 

“I’m a fast learner,” you sneered. There were laughs around you, but the man on the crate narrowed his eyes. 

“Guess we’ll find out. You prove you walk the talk and you might just find yourself in a...management position.” And that was all it took to get in. Seriously, no wonder there were so many thugs running around working for the costumed villains in the city. Getting a high ranking position in Penguin’s gang was easier and paid more than any position at your book store job. You didn’t quit that one, though. Even though you were working on reinventing yourself, the slim chance of running into Jason on Sunday’s were too important to give up; even if the rest of your job was meaningless. 

It was kind of scary how easily you adapted to working for Penguin. Initially, being surrounded by criminals and illegal money, weapons, etcetera seemed like something that would get under your skin, but it didn’t. It felt like any other job. Part of your nonchalance could have been the focus set on achieving your goal of making Jason realize his feelings for you. Another part might have been that you actually enjoyed it. You weren’t on the highest rung of the criminal empire, but you still felt more noticed and powerful than you’d ever felt before. 

Penguin had you directing a unit of his crew involved with distributing weapons brought in from Bludhaven. All that was really required of you was to oversee the others and direct them to avoid getting into trouble. You’d think the experienced thugs would be able to do gun-running without needing an overseer, but the things they did was too idiotic to even be laughable. Some of them had some common sense and didn’t need as much direction, but there were certain members who couldn’t do a simple task without screwing up. It was a good thing they did, thought because it gave you a chance to prove your worth. The cut you got from the runs was barely even a fraction of the money they received in total but it was a shit ton more than you got at the bookstore. You were even able to buy a condo closer to where Penguin’s hideout to avoid the long commute every night you were working. This was all fine and dandy, but it seemed you’d found yourself at a stand-still. The experience was there, but you were still just one competent goon among a sea of others. There was nothing that set you off from the others and that would become a problem if you wanted to make a name for yourself. The thought had been eating away at you for a while before an opportunity finally came up to move up. It wasn’t something you’d have ever seen yourself doing before, but love makes people do strange things. Sometimes even terrible things.


	3. Sacrifice

Penguin was a piece of shit. That much you knew before joining his crew. What was really jarring was learning just how much of a piece of shit he was behind the scenes. The general things he did as a criminal were to be expected; murder, theft, and all that. It was more so how truly cowardly he was and how quickly he’d go back on his word to benefit himself. You had thought he and Black Mask were on good terms after their last mutually beneficial interaction. That didn’t seem to be the case anymore though, when Oswald came storming into the Iceberg lounge with a trail of injured thugs and curses you hadn’t even heard of. 

Plans for a movement of meta-tech from Central City to another safehouse had been the focus of your attention for the majority of the night until they showed up. You were working in one of the offices in the lounge where the blueprints and computers were kept as well as the radios to the other crew members. Normally you coordinated the group via the system, but Oswald was there himself and had asked you to focus on a bigger movement than the one they’d been working on. Apparently, their job had gone south and judging by Oswald’s mood, there was likely going to be a lack of money arriving at the lounge. 

“What happened out there?” You whispered, pulling one of the less injured guys aside as they filed into the back rooms. He was someone you worked with often enough on jobs to know that he was quick to share information with anyone who would listen.

“You know we were movin’ that some of Penguin’s money to the West Side right? Well we got jumped by some of Mask’s guys on our way there. They took everything an’ followed us back to the hideout and hit us hard. We barely got out of there.” 

“Shit.”The money itself was a lot to lose, but that hideout was where Penguin kept the tech you were supposed to be moving. Losing both of those in one night would drive anyone mad with rage and it seemed that was exactly what was happening to your boss. 

“But I thought he was cool with Black Mask,” you questioned, watching as Oswald threw off his jacket and disappeared into the back. The thug shook his head and followed your gaze to the commotion. 

“Not since Penguin screwed him over on that trade last week. They’ve been waiting to hit us back for that.” That was something you hadn’t heard about. It might have been because you were busy with coordinating jobs on the other side of the city or that Oswald had just not felt like letting you know. He wasn’t the type to send out a weekly newsletter on the status of the gang. 

“What about that guy you brought in?” You recalled the man that had been dragged in by four of Penguin’s guards. He was bloodied and thrashing, clearly afraid for what would happen to him once they reached the back of the lounge. The thug breathed a low whistle, shaking his head with a piteos gaze.

“One of mask’s guys. Penguin wants to make him talk so we can retaliate.” He turned around as someone called out for him. “I gotta’ go, but If that guy doesn’t sing we’ll all be takin’ shit from Penguin for a while.” You nodded, watching as he ran off to some of the others. Despite the tense atmosphere and the feeling of your gut screaming at you to just leave, you headed back to where Oswald had taken the man. There were a few back rooms past the employees only sign and a door in the kitchen led down further to the storehouse. Most of the guys had done down there, but it seemed that Penguin had the hostage locked in the freezer. You just barely caught sight of the top of Oswald’s head as he disappeared inside, the door clanging shut behind him. 

You wanted to do something. Maybe if you could find a way to get the tech you could get into Oswald’s good graces. But how could you possibly do that? What Black Mask stole was extremely underground high tech weaponry stolen from Star Labs. It was extremely expensive and in high demand, especially with metahumans running around. Not only that, but Black Mask had a huge criminal empire. By the time you gathered enough information on your own and came up with a plan, the tech would be long gone. So what could you do? 

A loud metal clanging noise shook you out of your daze, followed by the familiar sound of Oswald cursing. He returned from the freezer covered in blood that definitely wasn’t his. It stained the white pinstripe dress shirt he wore and the skin of his hands as he moved to one of the industrial sinks to wash them. You thought that had to be some kind of health code violation, but realistically blood in the kitchen sink was probably the least of the lounge’s violations. Anything there besides the alcohol was a gamble to consume. 

“You morons better not be standing around doin’ jack shit! I need information on Mask yesterday and if I don’t get it from that bloak or any of you, someone’s gonna end up on the wrong side of my cane!” Oswald’s voice shook you out of your daze, standing to attention as he walked by. You must have gotten more lost in thought earlier than you’d thought as a lot more time seemed to have passed than you initially thought. Now, Oswald seemed even angrier before, throwing a set of plates at some of the guys standing around in the kitchen and breaking whatever was within reach. 

Glancing at the metal doors where Oswald had come from, you had an idea. A terrible, awful idea that you were shocked even came to mind. You should have ignored it as an intrusive thought. A meaningless idea with no reality behind it. Instead, you captured it and held on like it was your life support as you approached the man in charge.

“He still awake in there?” Cobblepot turned to you, scoffing and huffing from his pipe. His tantrum was far from over, but he likely needed a smoke. 

“Barely. Tougher than he looks,” he said angrily. Your heartbeat rang in your ears like an erratic drum and a sick feeling wound itself in your stomach. Would you do it? How could you? It was too extreme, even for you. And yet, you were speaking again before you could stop yourself. Almost as if you were on autopilot and the control over your actions had shifted to someone else. 

“I think I can get him to talk.” Penguin looked at you again, eyes narrowed. You straightened, calling onto your confidence to show him you were being serious. 

“Bloody hell, we’ve got nothing to lose anyway,” he said, waving you odd. “But if you kill my hostage you’ll be the one in that chair.” You nodded, turning and walking the long stretch of concrete to the room. 

The freezer seemed farther away than it had been before, due to your newfound anxiety relating to the contents of the cool room. This was something you’d never have seen yourself doing and for a moment you wondered if you’d really go this far for Jason. This was different than joining a gang or running illegal weapons. This was dark and a line even some villains wouldn’t cross. The thought made your heart hurt and your stomach churn, but you were already at the door. The apprehension and sickness you felt before entering the room could never have prepared you for what happened next. Nothing in the world would have. It was definitely a shock to yourself that you could go through with it. And even more so, was what you found out as you began. 

You were good at it…

It was like something else took over. The same subtle confidence that had given you the strength to make your place in the gang the first time came back with a vengeance, shutting down the rational part of your mind that screamed with moral objections. Suddenly it was a challenge. How far could you push him before he broke or before his body did. What would make him pray for mercy and wat would make him pray for death. The things you did would have made you sick just thinking about before a few months ago. For a moment, you did feel a rush of sickness, but it was more temporary than you’d have thought it to be. By the time Penguin came back into the room, the man was practically begging for a chance to share the information. By then it was like you’d awoken from a dream and the weight of it all came crashing down. 

You stayed in the room, but sunk back into the darkness of the corners, eyes wide and hands shaking. You wanted to throw up. There was still blood all over you and it made your hands slick and the air in the room thick and hard to breathe. Cobblepot was all cocky smiles though, as he entered the freezer and prodded at the man. Oswald questioned him as much as he wanted, receiving defeated answers to whatever he asked that deepened the twisted grin on his face. You didn’t really process it much, caught somewhere between reality and what had just happened. It wasn’t until Oswald placed a hand on your shoulder, that you snapped back into focus, catching sight his toothy grin. 

“You just became much more valuable around here.” His words were like ice sliding down your back, sending a shiver throughout your body as he turned and headed out of the freezer. You looked back towards the man, eyes taking in the scene and replaying your actions through the eyes of an observer. Like you weren’t the one dragging the information out of him through his pain. He was dead now, thanks to Cobblepot and the sharp end of his cane, but still you searched his eyes. For what, you weren’t entirely sure. Maybe for the pleading look he’d given you minutes ago or the one he’d made just as he’d finally given in. Whatever it was, you didn’t find in his cold stare. The only thing you found was something about yourself you shouldn’t have discovered. 

You liked it. A part of you was disgusted. Appalled at the cruelty you were capable of showing and the triumphant feeling that came with winning. The other part revelled in it. The fear and the challenge was like a drug, leaving you elated and feeling powerful when you left that awful void of a room. Penguin met you outside in a disorienting conversation full of congratulations. You were mostly out of it, lost in your own storm of emotion. You followed him absently as he paraded you into the storehouse where he bragged of your accomplishment and declared that there would be a celebration. Not right then, of course. Oswald was dead set on planning his revenge and he wanted everyone preparing for an attack before Mask had a chance to catch on. Honestly, the planning and set up was a blur, but by dawn the next morning, you were back in front of your monitors with a line-up of energy drinks and Oswald to your right ordering his men around. 

“They won’t know what’s comin’” he said, laughing darkly as the raid began. You managed to remain lucid enough to direct the crew members and to lead them to where the captured goon had instructed. It shouldn’t have been that easy, but thanks to the information you’d gathered, it was a massacre. It was then that you recognized how desensitized you were to everything that happened around there. It had to have only been a few months, yet the sick feeling in your stomach had disappeared; only showing up as you’d walked into that freezer. Even then, it had lasted a short time, overshadowed by the cruel thrill of it all. You should have cared that the man had been begging you to spare his life. You should care that dozens of people were being killed a few miles deeper into the city. Most importantly, you should care about what you were becoming. Despite knowing this, your mind was blank. Your only stray thought lingering on where Jason might be right now. 

“I don’t normally do this,” Oswald was saying. It was after they’d returned to the lounge with the shipment. Everyone was celebrating with drinks from the bar and live music. It was only around noon, but everybody was drinking like it was the dead of night. Everyone but you. You were mostly just watching, expression neutral as the guys shouted and danced around the club. Oswald had stumbled up to you at the bar at some point, causing you to jump and turn around in surprise. 

“Normally, I reward my guys with shit like this; parties and alcohol. But I think you deserve a special treat. Havin’ saved my arse and all,” he said, words slurring slightly as he went. He was most certainly drunk and his talk of a special reward sent you into a silent panic over what he might mean. Oswald only cleared his throat, leaning closer and lowering his voice way less than he seemed to think he had. 

“This ‘s the key for the store room. Go on n’ pick out something from one of those fancy tech boxes.” Your eyes widened as he dropped the keys into your glass of water. Watching him laugh to himself as he watched them sink into the clear liquid. Your heart resumed it’s rhythm now that you knew he wasn’t intending something disgusting, but you were still left wondering what had gotten into him.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious. I’m drunk, not stupid,” he replied. “Now go on before I change my mind. And you better make it good cause word’s gonna get out and your name’s gonna be on a lot of hit lists. I can’ t have my employee of the month gettin’ cracked before I get my money’s worth.” 

Ah, so that was it. He knew you were otherwise fairly incapable of defending yourself; especially against the trained killers in the city. He had a point though. His words struck a chord of fear in you, your eyes dropping to the glass before returning to his. You fished them out of the glass after a moment of hesitation and dropped from the bar, slipping through the crowd and out of the lounge area. Once you were in the room, you came face to face with rows and rows of opened and unopened crates of tech. There were complicated looking guns that did lord-knows- what and pieces of armor and all kinds of expensive looking weapons. It was terrifying to look at and even more terrifying to know that they’d be sold across the city soon.

If you were a better person you’d try to stop it. Sabotage what you could while you were there and get the word out to someone who could do more. You thought about it for a moment, mind flashing with warnings of chaos that could envelope the city if the technology was sold. That feeling of remorse also lasted about as long as your remorse for the man in the freezer. Even if you did tell Jason and he came and put a stop to it, he might be grateful for about a week, then go back to whoever he spends his free time with now. It’d be ultimately a waste of time and the only thing that would happen is you’d lose your chance at being someone he could care about. So instead, you walked along the weapons, scanning for something you thought might actually help. 

It was while you walked along one of the middle rows that your eyes caught on to an open crate with what looked like translucent hands reaching into the air. You rounded the corner of crates to get a closer look, eyes falling beside them to where a pair of long black gloves sat deflated and abandoned. You lifted them up, examining them as they were heavier than they seemed, but sleek and thin. There were hardened parts that resembled glass in the shape of a hand print along the front and held two mirrored crescent shapes along the back of each hand. Every crate seemed to have files included with blueprints and data on each piece of technology. You picked up the one for the gloves and skimmed over the information. They were apparently some kind of energy gauntlets that were supposed to collect energy and disperse it as electrical charges. 

Curious, you pulled them onto your hands, reading through the data for a way to turn them on. The file said to press the backs of your hands together with with enough force for the gloves to illuminate. You tried a few times, not quite hitting hard enough to awaken them. After a particularly hard clack they sprung to life, glowing bright and the fabric tightening and fitting to your forearms on their own. By then, you had already decided. These were perfect. Once that was decided, you were already brainstorming the next item on your to do list. Masking your identity so that you didn’t have a target directly on your back for every villain in the city you pissed off to take aim at.


	4. Betrayed

Oswald screwing you over was something that was expected the moment you decided to work under him. He was notorious for using people until he decided he would make more profit by throwing them under the bus. He was a sly, conniving backstabbing little rat and the only way to avoid getting the Cobblepot treatment was to stay five steps ahead. No matter how much he liked you or how loyal he seemed, penguin would always stab you in the back if it meant he got something out of it. The only question was when. 

Your job for his syndicate had gained a reputation as quickly as he anticipated and soon you found yourself gaining notoriety. It didn’t take long after you gained the star labs tech that you concealed your identity. In all honesty, you had no idea where villains got their costumes so you just bought a bunch of cool looking clothes on Amazon with hints of your signature color. There were some names circling around the thugs for you, most of them kind of stupid, but out of your control. Coming up with a name had been something put on the back burner until you had a better idea of what you'd even be doing. Your "coworkers", however didn't have the patience so they set to trying out nicknames with you and amongst themselves until one stuck. It felt a bit disappointing that you didn't get to name yourself and even more disappointing that they chose the name they did. Unfortunately by then, they were all calling you The Fallen Angel and bragging about you to everyone they could get to listen. 

The first time the name surfaced, you didn't know what the fuck was going on. Then you kept hearing it and finally asked what was going on to one of the friendlier guys. He'd said the name came from someone who'd known you when you’d first started. They said you looked innocent like an angel when you first joined, but now you were known more as a devil. It felt like a stretch, but by then it was stuck and you couldn't do much about it. 

Word came about Oswald’s betrayal straight from the source. With your huge paychecks, buying expensive gear was easy, so you bugged his cane as soon as possible. You usually did a run through of his conversations at a few times the speed to check if there was anything fishy going on. It was one day when you were reviewing the audio that you heard him in a suspicious phone call. 

He was talking to one of the smaller gang leaders in the city. He was in another part of Gotham, but apparently they had some kind of partnership. Whatever the nature of their relationship was, he was warning Oswald about something. He’d said that he’d heard Red Hood was looking into one of the other gangs they’d hit a few weeks prior. It turned out they were under his protection and anyone who went after one of his gangs had to answer to him. And apparently he was hot on the Penguin’s tail. Close enough to cause a panic, but not quite close enough to have figured out exactly who it was. Yet. 

Oswald was in a panic instantly. He recalled what had happened to Black mask when he’d crossed the hood and that he wasn’t about to meet the same fate. Your mind had gone fuzzy for a moment when you heard Jason’s alias, but you were quick to snap back to attentiveness when you hear yours. You had to rewind the audio to find out what he’d said, but when you did it made your blood boil. 

“Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll promote that Angel fuck and send em’ to lead another raid. By then, Hood’ll have caught up and catch em’ in the act. Then we’ll be in the clear. That little asshole’s getting too cocky anyway.” 

“What’s keeping Fallen Angel from snitching on you, though?” 

“We can arrange for something to happen if someone gets a little too talkative. Hood’s known for shoot first and ask questions later, though. Angel won’t know what’s coming.” 

The call went on with Oswald going through the plan and details with the man on the phone. You listened intently as he spoke, tongue pressing along your cheek in anger. 

“Little piece of shit,” you muttered, noting it in your phone. The plan was set to go down the next day so you didn’t have much time to prepare. Thank god you went through the recordings in the morning instead of skipping over it in boredom. You would have been completely fucked.

Still, until you got ahead of this you were still fucked. Somehow you’d have to stop this plan before Jason shot you dead without an ounce of remorse and everything you’d worked so hard for died with you. How poetic it would be for him to be the one to kill you. If this were Shakespeare, that’s how you’d meet your end. But this wasn’t some tragic love story and you weren’t about to die like that. You just had to find a way to get to him first. Oswald meant to catch you off guard and promote you the day of the trapped mission because you had already told him you had plans the day before. Thank god for your first job because otherwise you’d have no time to prepare. Calling in to that job was easy because you had plenty of sick time piled up. They didn’t even question you, telling you to feel better soon. Now you had the whole day and night to find a way to save your life. 

It felt risky, but after racking your brain for hours the best idea you could come up with was to find Jason before and to direct him to penguin yourself. There was no real guarantee that you’d be able to find him in time or that he wouldn’t shoot you anyway, but that was still better chances than trying to talk to him after Oswald sets you up. The real problem was finding him. 

If you had been going to work at the Iceberg lounge that night you would have stayed in your second apartment. That one was closer and had most of the gear and tech you typically used. There were other hideouts of yours around the city that made it easier to slip in and out of your alter ego, but luck wasn’t on your side. You were currently at your first home closer to the bookstore and you had less supplies than you would have wanted. The electricity gauntlets that you had grown so reliant on we're miles away and going to retrieve them would waste even more time that you didn’t have. Your other hideouts didn’t hold much except for a place to change and some other basic stuff you needed that wouldn’t help in this situation. You would have to settle for the things you kept in this apartment; which wasn’t much. You had an outfit or two that you could change into and the new mask that you’d had shipped to the wrong apartment. Thank god you made a mistake like that or else you’d have to improvise with something a lot less professional. 

It was dark by the time you’d formulated a plan of your own and was ready to hit the streets. It was apparent that Red Hood patrolled in your neighborhood most nights thanks to the show you were treated to months ago when you first started this mess. It wasn’t often that you saw him, but you didn’t have to rely on your sight alone. The thugs in the area were easy to listen in on, especially when you knew the channels through which they talked as an insider. Once you got into those, you had eyes and ears all over Gotham. All you needed to do was wait for someone to give you the location you needed. 

Travelling through Gotham as The Fallen Angel- God that name sucked- usually consisted of taking the suit off, taking the metro and putting it back on somewhere else. Now, you didn’t have time to change in and out of your costume to take public transit and it was unlikely you’d catch him on the streets. The only logical place to look was along the city’s skyline. Fuck. 

It seemed that every costumed hero in the city ran along the rooftops like a goddamn maniac. Jason was definitely no exception. A lot of the buildings in Gotham were connected and close enough to jump between, but not for someone like you. No training, no powers, nothing but a big heart and money to blow. You didn’t have a grappling hook or whatever the fuck batman had that let him fly across the sky like a bat out of hell. You made it to the roof of your apartment and then to the roof adjacent before you decided that you couldn’t do that shit. 

To be fair, you tried giving yourself a running start to the next rooftop at least five times before you finally gave up and collapsed defeatedly onto the stone railing. You were standing against the ledge with your head resting on your arms and the voices of members of penguin’s crew playing through your headset when you heard someone say ‘Hood’. The declaration had come when you were trying to breath through the panic of knowing you would probably die the next night, so you missed the first half of what was said. It was easy to infer what was happening though, with the sounds of gunfire and shouting coming from the speaker. You shot your head up, eyes wide as you listened to the fight, catching hints of Jason’s snarky remarks. 

It all went by way quicker than you could have ever imagined and suddenly it was silent. An idea came to you and you nearly threw your phone off of the roof scrambling to enact it before he was gone. You were whispering to yourself to hurry as you quickly typed into the device, cranking the notch along the side of your earpiece as you went. Thankfully you heard him saying something about the thugs being low tier, letting you know he was still there. You quickly cleared your throat before setting the speaker you’d been listening through to be loud enough for Jason to hear. Your headset masked your voice and you spoke in a clear and hopefully authoritative voice. 

“Hood!” There really was no video associated with what you received, so you had no idea if he’d heard you. “Red Hood!”

“Well you’re unconscious so that means someone else is speaking through your dinky little radio.” You almost heaved a huge sigh of relief when you heard his voice closer to the speaker. Thankfully, you caught yourself before you did so into the speaker. 

“You rang?” He had such a calm and teasing tone as he spoke; almost like some disembodied voice wasn’t trying to contact him through the speaker of the thug he’d just knocked out. Unconscious caught you off guard, though. He usually killed the thugs he went up against. “I’d get to the point fast if I were you; you’re little buddy might bleed out soon.” 

That made more sense. 

“Who- oh, I don’t know who that is. I need to speak with you.” 

“Then speak.” 

“In person,” you clarified. Jason paused, then made a scoffing noise. 

“I don’t know how you think this unknown caller thing works; but you usually don’t ask to meet on the first message. Leave it mysterious for a bit, you know?” He paused, voice darkening. “Unless you’re planning to do something very bold and very stupid.” 

“I’m trying to avoid something like that. I have information on who raided your guy’s warehouse.”

“Ah, a snitch,” he said. “And what might you want in return for that information. -And let’s not be greedy; I can make you talk if I have to.” 

“I don’t doubt that. I don’t want anything,” you said. Jason laughed out loud this time. 

“Please, everybody wants something. Let’s just get this shit out of the way so I can make my decision.” 

“The only thing I want is for the little asshole responsible to get his ass kicked.” Real anger towards Oswald dripped into your voice. Yes, you knew he’d screw you over eventually, but it still hurt damn it! He dropped your name as the fall guy without missing a beat. And after everything you'd done. Sure, it wasn't for him, but it benefited him nonetheless. The blood on your hands put money in his for months and still that wasn't good enough. 

“Fair enough. Where to then?” 

Jason was there faster than you thought he would be. You hadn’t even seen him coming. The anticipation had your heart racing and your eyes darting across the rooftops looking for him, but you still didn’t see him until his voice came in behind you. 

“This better not be a trap; for your sake,” he said. You nearly jumped off the damn roof, hand clasping your heart in shock. 

“Jesus fuck,” you whispered. Jason came closer, head tilted to the side as he came closer. 

“Hm, I didn’t think you’d be like this when you had the balls to summon me. You’re a lot more jumpy in person.” He was obscenely intimidating as he spoke, despite the teasing air to his voice. He was the same person as he had been every time he came into your bookstore, but felt completely different. Like someone who would snap your neck and throw you off the roof without a second thought. 

“It’s...not every day you meet Red Hood,” You said. “And usually when you do it’s right before he shoots you and laughs about it.” 

“I see you heard our little meeting,” he nodded. “But besides that, you said you have information for me. Spill it.” 

“Right, but...How do I know you won’t just kill me after I tell you?”

“Have you done anything to make me want to kill you?”

“...no…”

“Then, I probably won’t,” he shrugged. 

“Probably,” you muttered. “Alright. Cobblepot put out the order. He had some of his guys do it and he’s planning to make another hit tomorrow.” 

“Well I already figured that bit out,” Jason scoffed.

“Yeah, but that’s not all. He’s trying to set it up so you think I’m the one who did it. He said he’s planning to have me take the fall and get away with it,” you explained. 

“Interesting,” Jason said. he stepped even closer. You might have stepped back if it were someone else, but proximity was what you wanted more than anything. The closeness made you exhale, heart pumping erratically and butterflies fluttering through your veins. “But I don’t know if I buy your story. You could have done it yourself and now you’re trying to pin it on Penguin as if he were setting you up.” 

“That could be true,” you said. “Which is why I brought the recording of him saying it.” You brought your phone up so that it was held in front of you and played the recording. Jason watched, his expression masked completely. He crossed his arms over his chest as he listened and you could see your hand shaking in front of his statuesque posture. 

“How’d you get that?”

“Easy; he carries that ugly cane everywhere,” you said without missing a beat. 

“You’d have to get pretty close to bug his cane…” suddenly he snapped his fingers, pointing at you suddenly and nearly giving you a heart attack. “You’re his little secret weapon aren’t you? The one who gets all his info. The...Angel! Fallen Angel!”

The mention of your alias brought a wave of irritation into your bones, but what followed it was stronger. Realization. You were acting the same way you always had around him. Like the shy little book store clerk who could never work up the nerve to say more than three full sentences to him. The same person he didn’t care about now and wouldn’t ever care about. The one you went through all this bullshit to build a name for. The name may suck but your reputation didn’t. Suddenly you remember how you got here in the first place. Penguin was worried you were moving past him. Little did he know his little stunt would fuck him over in the end; if he even survived. 

“In the flesh.” 

"So what made Penguin's favorite toy suspicious enough to put a bug on him?"

"The entire reason you know who I am is because I'm smart enough not to trust him. I'd never work for a sneaky little bastard like him without some kind of insurance."

"Well if you have everything planned out, why were you so desperate to find me?" Jason pressed forward, watching you carefully.

"Like I said before, you're the type to shoot first and laugh about it, leaving the questions for whoever has to deal with it. If I didn't get to you before he did, then I'd be dead."

"Hm...I guess you aren't as dumb as your choice in name suggests," Jason replied. "But what's in your master plan next? Now that you've got my attention." His attention. That was all you had ever wanted. A while ago, that might have been enough for you, but now? Now there was something else taking up space in your mind. Revenge. Anger. The desire to make Oswald hurt for even thinking of double crossing you. 

"We go straight to him. I have his location and if you can get me past his guys, I'll take care of the rest." Jason crossed his arms, staring at you in silence. There was a way he had of looking at you that made you think he could see through you. He'd done it before, but even through his helmet his gaze felt omniscient. Gazing into the void in your soul that seemed to grow bigger with every passing day. 

"And what do you plan to do when you get to him? You gonna kill your boss?"

"Kill him?" Your voice sounded foreign, laced with spite. It was scary to hear yourself sound so different and to be watching almost from a secondary point of view. This unnerving feeling, didn't halt your train of thought though, a smile forming and contradicting the malice in your tone. 

"Oh he'll pray to God that I take his miserable life. But I'll leave that to the more experienced one here. When I'm done with him, you can decide if he lives or dies."

"...deal."


	5. Don't Call Me Angel

“This side of the warehouse is where most of the weapons are kept. The guys don’t usually mess with them unless they’re getting ready for a job. Penguin doesn’t like them playing with his guns, so if you keep them from getting there, they’ll be easier to deal with.” Jason hummed in affirmation as you directed him to mark a location on the holographic map he’d pulled up. Somewhere in your mind, you noted to invest in one of those yourself later on. For now you were too focused on keeping your mind on task as Jason mumbled to himself. He stood a few feet away, separated by the glowing blue-prints, yet he had a gravitational pull that drew your thoughts toward him constantly. Still, you fought to maintain your composure to help him formulate a plan.

“This is Oswald’s office. It’s usually not guarded but with you going after him it likely will be. He’ll keep the thugs he trusts being armed nearby. They’re the ones you need to look out for.” 

“But you know what to expect, right?” You looked up to meet Jason’s gaze, flashing a grin at him. 

“Of course. And Cobblepot doesn’t think I know anything yet so he won’t have taken any counter measures.” 

“Perfect.” Jason listened intently, marking his map as you directed him on the crew’s behavior. It was almost comical how it took betraying an entire crime syndicate to gain his undivided attention. You might have been bitter if you didn’t revel in it. The feeling of knowing he was hanging onto every word and noting every tip you gave him. In that moment, he was entirely focused on you. Even if your voice had been scrambled by the high-tech choker you’d spent thousands on, it was your words that he was listening to. It was such a simple thing, but it meant everything to you. Almost enough to extinguish your burning desire for revenge. Almost.

“I’ll take care of the crew members and while I draw their fire, you sneak into Oz’s office. You got any weapons?” You tensed at Jason’s question, watching as he dispersed the hologram and lowered his arm. 

“Not with me.” 

“Seriously?”

“Sorry, I was more focused on getting to you before Penguin than packing my overnight bag. It felt like a better idea to come unprepared than to have you hunt me down.” 

“Sheesh, you criminals always act like im completely unreasonable,” Jason said, shaking his head and retrieving a gun from his holster. You paused for a moment of fear, watching as he spun it so the handel faced you and extended his hand. In shock, you could only watch his hand until he spoke again. “You gonna take the gun so we can leave?.” 

“Right-right, um, thanks,” you said, taking it clumsily. “But I don’t- Have a place for it…”

“Fine, I’ll just keep it until we get there, then,” Jason said, extending his hand again. Without thinking, you snatched your hand and the gun away, holding it away from him. You looked up at him, embarrassed by your own actions as he tilted his head to the side. 

“I’ve got it,” you mumbled, opening one of the bigger pouches in your harness and tossing a knife out onto the ground. Instead, you pushed the gun inside, careful to avoid the trigger as you shoved it into the awkward space. 

“Whatever. You have a grapple anywhere?”

“Uh…..”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Admittedly, by the time you got to Penguin's lounge you were in lovey dovey mode. Jason had pretty much carried you across Gotham's skyline and honestly if you died right then you would have been happy. Even as he dropped you off in your position and as he connected his radio to yours. The panicked sounds of your old colleagues fell on deaf ears as you traced hearts into dusty back door of the store house. It was locked from the inside and once Jason had cleared out a path, he'd let you in and finish off whatever needed attention. The plan felt distant now, despite the noises coming in through your headset. You only tuned back in when the door was thrown open and Jason gestured for you to follow him inside. 

"The east end is clear but he's sending more guys in. You know the way to his office without attracting atten-” Your eyes shot past Jason just as his own head whipped around, hearing a gravelly cockney accent ordering for the men to cease fire. Jason’s arm shot out, pressing you against the wall of the hallway you’d entered through. You knew there was a door to your left that would lead you out of there, but your mind was focused elsewhere. The only way you could describe the feeling of his arm pressing you against the wall beside him was what you imagined taking heroin was like. A sudden and overwhelming rush of euphoria followed by a fuzzy feeling of happiness. You could barely hear him telling you to stay there as he removed his arm and came out of the hallway. He seemed like he was talking to Oswald, so you pinched yourself to try and find some grounding for your rampant emotions. 

“...and I’m supposed to believe you gave one of your crew enough independence to screw both you and me over?” Jason was saying, his voice sounding flat and bored. 

“Not one of my best moments, but what can I say. They don’t call em’ angel for nothin’.” 

“So now your excuse is that you were seduced?”

“No! That’s not- look, the moral of the story ‘ere is that we were both set up by the brat. So why don’t we put our differences aside an’ get rid of the real problem?”

“Well that plan sounds familiar…” 

Bang

The sound was deafening and your hands trembled as your ears rang enough to hurt. There was shouting and running and the sound of Oswald cursing, but you were seeing red by then. If the gun hadn’t disoriented you, your blinding anger would have as you pressed onto the trigger until there was nothing but an empty clicking sound. Jason whipped around to watch as you emerged from the hall, striding forward and stopping beside him with the gun raised in front of you. Where the shots had gone, you weren’t sure, but the rush of bullets had driven him and his remaining men to take shelter in the kitchen where the waving metal doors further taunted your anger

“Grimy little shit! First you try to fuck me over, and then you have the nerve to imply I’d ever even think of touching a weasly little thing like you!”

“Angel-” 

“Stop fucking calling me that!” Jason’s vice had been foreign in your ears, lost in the storm of rage currently overtaking you. Suddenly, you were yanked backwards and behind the bar as a barrage of bullets followed you to the door. What was scary about that moment wasn’t the bullets that had narrowly sent you to an early grave or the fact that your sudden outburst might have taken a life. The scary part was that even as Jason was swearing and reloading the gun in your hand, you didn’t feel anything. You were in that dark place. The void where even Jason couldn’t seem to reach you as your worst impulses took control. He was trying to talk to you, running through a plan to prepare for the remaining men’s attack or retreat, but his words fell on deaf ears. You had crawled around the bar until you were hidden by the column of alcohol and you quickly snatched up the four or five bottles that were close enough to reach. You hands worked with a mind of their own, opening the bottles and shoving the bar towels into them as best you could. You didn’t address Jason until you’d lined them up and held one in your hand. 

“Light,” you said, eyes harsh as they stared at his helmet. Wordlessly, he reached into his utility belt and pulled out some kind of gadget that produced a bright string of electricity. It lit the end of the towel just as the round of bullets ceased. Without a second thought, you leapt over the counter, ignoring Jason’s reaching hand as you dashed towards the kitchen. The doors were littered with bullet holes and swinging in an attempt to regain their resting position. You ran by, throwing the molotov into the kitchen as the doors swung open and rounding back to where you’d come from. You were back behind the counter before there were even screams of recognition and your hands were reaching for the next bottle. Before you could grab it though, a firm hand on your forearm stopped your movement.

“Great idea, but let’s try no to set the whole building on fire. I’ll clear the goons out, wait for me to signal you that the coast is clear.” He leapt over the counter, rushing through the door into the kitchen. Followed by the sound of gunshots and the muffled sound of a fire extinguisher. It was then that you abandoned Jason’s orders, leaving the bar and running out of the building from the hallway you’d come in from. If you learned anything from the job, it was how Oswald worked. He’d run away the first chance he got, and you knew there was one in the chaos of Jason attacking and the cocktail you’d thrown. Through the kitchen, you knew about the storehouse where he could make his escape. This was why you took the gun jason had given you and hurried around to the garage where the shipments of goods usually came in. 

As expected, Oswald was there, cursing and rushing out through the open garage. He didn’t see you coming to cut him off until a warning shot landed admittedly closer to him than you’d been aiming for. He stopped in his tracks, eyes shooting up to look at you before he swore again, taking a tentative step back. 

“Oh don’t get quiet now, Oz. You had a lot to say a while ago,” you said darkly, stepping forward and pushing him into the building with the intimidation of your gun. “What was it you said about me? ‘Little shit’s getting to cocky?’ Was that what it was? You really thought you’d just fuck me over and let me take the heat for your shitty idea?”

“That wasn’t how it was at all--”

“Don’t you fucking lie to me!” Your finger pressed onto the trigger impulsively, shooting at the ground near Oswald again. “I know everything and you lying about it isn’t going to change what I’m going to do to you.” The gunshots inside had stopped a while ago and soon enough you saw Jason emerging from the entrance to the kitchen. His presence didn’t sway your resolve though, as you kept your gun pointed at the man before you as he glanced to where your eyes had jumped. 

“Fine, I was plannin’ to set you up for my hit on hood’s guys. You cracked the fuckin’ case. You happy now?”

“Not even close,” You seethed. Jason came up to stand nearer to you, chuckling as he faced Oswald. 

“So you admit you were the one to come after one of my gangs? The ones I specifically told you low lives was off limits?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just kick my arse and send me to Arkham. Get it over with.”

“Hm, that’s not really up to me,” Jason said tauntingly. You looked to him somewhat surprised as he nodded in your direction. “See, our deal was that I took care of the crew and your little friend got to decide what happens to you.”

“You-No!”

“What? You afraid to deal with your employees now? I thought you were The Penguin. Big bad ass who thinks he can fuck with Red Hood’s gangs. You saying you’re afraid of this rookie crook?” Jason taunted, laughing at the panic in Oswald’s eyes.

“I’ll do whatever you want! Anything. Just don’t leave my fate up to that lunatic!”

Jason continued laughing until he sobered, sighing. “Wow, that’s a first. Usually I’m the one criminals beg for mercy from.” He turned, blank eyes of his helmet watching you as your legs moved on their own. You were barely listening to their conversation, growing impatient and closing the distance between you and Oswald. He moved backwards, but you didn’t falter, eyes locked onto his fearful form. 

“You’re gonna regret you ever met me, Oz. I know how to turn you into a fucking horror story. I’ll make balloon animals with your guts and make sure you’re conscious while I do it. And when I’m bored of that, I’ll take thats stupid fucking umbrella and use it to take your good eye and turn it into a stress toy-” Oswald jumped as his back hit the wall of the warehouse. You’d pushed him towards the garage at an angle that stopped him along the wall instead of allowing him to go inside. He shrunk into himself as you stopped, gun shaking in your hands as your mind ran wild. 

“Please! I’m sorry, alright! I’ll give you the business if you want it! Just let me go!” Of course he was afraid. He’d seen what you could do. He knew you’d make good on your words if you got the chance and judging by his actions, he’d rather deal with the murderous Red Hood than you. 

“By the time anyone finds you, you’ll look like a slimy little mr potato head doll and even then I’ll make sure you’re still breathing.” By then, the fear of your words left Oswald less afraid of the weapon being pointed at him. He seemed to decide to take his chances with that, jerking to the side and taking off running as best he could. You shot immediately, but your bullet either didn’t hit him or didn’t hit a spot that’d stop him from running as he ran into the club again through the back door. There were sirens in your ears, but you already took off running after him, putting everything you had into making your legs move faster. It seemed that you still weren’t fast enough though, coming to an abrupt stop in front of the freezer door. 

“Fucker!” You banged on the door before stepping away, eyes searching the kitchen rapidly. Just as the metal pot on the stove had found its way into your hands, Jason’s hand was grabbing you again and you realized he’d been calling your name. At least the name he knew you by.

“We don’t have time to coax the snake out of it’s hole right now. Let’s go.” At first, when his hand had grabbed your arm, there was enough rage in your being to want to break it. But then you looked at him and remembered who he was. Shame fell over you like a tsunami and you could only nod, carefully dropping the pot back into place. 

What was wrong with you? How could you have acted like that and even considered snapping on Jason. Not even considered. You had snapped at him! The memory was fresh in your mind, yelling at him for calling you by that stupid alias when you’d fist come out with the gun. You'd ignored his words and done what you wanted, acting on your own dark impulses. You couldn't imagine what he thought of you now. It was almost like you blacked out, but remembered everything you did. As you followed Jason out to the roof of the building, you couldn't help but feel the same wave of sickness you always felt after a night as your alter ego, this time heightened by the fact that he was there. As soon as you were out of the lounge, you flooded him with apologies.

"I-I don't know what came over me. I should have listened to you, I'm sorry-!" Your words were yanked out of you along with all of the air in your lungs as Jason wrapped an arm around you. 

"Hold on," he stated. Your hands flew to grip the lapels of his jacket right as he launched his grapple, the two of you soaring upwards towards another building. Whether it was from the jump or the proximity was unknown, but your heart was beating out of your chest when your feet found solid ground. Jason holstered the gun, chuckling at what must have been a shocked expression on your face. 

"You were saying?"

"Ah-I was saying...I was saying sorry for not listening to you in there. I was...I don't know, I wasn't myself. Thank you for getting me out of there. Most people would have left me behind."

"I probably should have…” Jason paused, trailing off seemingly collecting his thoughts. You weren’t sure what to make of his words yet, so you settled for looking to the ground and waiting for him to finish. “But you...You don’t seem like you fit being a criminal. You definitely had me fooled for a while there, but even apologizing now shows this isn’t for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you seemed angry there and maybe that was why you were losing control in there. I get that, believe me, but before then you seemed different. I don’t know you or why you got into crime, but...you should get out while you can. There are better ways to live your life and this gig comes at a price. It may seem like the best option, but it changes you.” 

“...oh…”

“Jesus, what am I saying. Look, tonight was a shit show but at least we made it out alive. Thanks for letting me know about Cobblepot.” Before you could even thank him, he was gone. His words weighed on your thoughts though. What he’d said...you weren’t sure if it was positive or negative, but it made you wonder if he felt the same darkness you did. If that’s what he was warning you about. It had nearly consumed you in the lounge earlier and the fear of it taking over you entirely magnified. But Jason was there. More so than ever now, and if teetering the line between the sun and the void was what it took to get to him...maybe it was worth a small piece of your soul.


	6. Cards on the Table

ason wasn’t sure why he’d saved you that night at the Iceberg Lounge. He also wasn’t sure why he’d given you advice later on and warned you about getting involved in Gotham crime. There was something about you that made him care. He knew your reputation and how you gained your fame, but he still felt like you weren't what he thought you were. Maybe it was a first impression, but you were different. It seemed, he'd find out soon enough if that impression was accurate or not. 

After the first time he met you, it was like he’d opened pandora’s box. Suddenly you were everywhere. How you managed to do it was beyond him; but every thread he followed to solve a case was intercepted by you. It was never at the same point, but somewhere along the way of his investigation, he’d find your interference. Sometimes it was a simple handwritten note left with the mangled body of the thug with the information he needed. Other times it was more dramatic with roses or hearts written in blood or fire- yes fire. It wasn’t hard to tell what kind of message you were trying to send, but he did his best not to humor it. It was seeming like he might need to end your little ‘tipline’ soon, though. Especially when he came across the heart of rose petals filled with pictures of The Red Hood and Arkham Knight. 

When he arrived at the meeting place, he wasn’t surprised to see you waiting there. You were always there waiting for him. The more often he’d met you, he realized that you didn’t seem to have one official costume. There were several different things he’d seen you in, but they were all loosely related. He did notice that few things remained the same whenever he did see you. The main thing he noted that never changed was the glowing gauntlets that shifted in color to match your color scheme. They hadn’t been there the first time, but every time since then you’d worn them. Jason wasn’t sure if they held any usefulness, but he’d never seen anything like them before. It was strange, but then again everything about you was. He never really saw the crush as a real threat until that night. 

It had to have been early in the morning because he could tell the sun would be rising soon. The city was still bathed in darkness but the sky was beginning to lighten. He found you standing near the edge of the roof, but at the sound of his feet landing, you turned around. 

“I see you’re feeling theatrical tonight,” he said, raising the letter and one of the photos of him for you to see. You’d left instructions to burn it when he found it in your note, but he saved a picture of him as the Arkham Knight “and that you put two and two together. Not much left to the imagination, huh?”

You hummed, coming closer with a graceful stride. Your gait was different as well, seeming to float across the roof to him. “I don’t like beating around the bush.” 

“Well, I’m here. What do you have for me?” 

You didn't respond, reaching into a pocket of your belt and pulling out a small disk drive. You passed it over to him with the same kind of coy enjoyment that had made him feel uneasy. The drive dropped into his waiting hand and he closed his fingers around it. 

"More theatrics I see," he hummed. He clicked open a port in his helmet and moved to put the device in before you snatched it back suddenly. 

"Not yet! If I wanted you to hear it now I'd just say it myself!" 

"That sounds like you set something up I won't like," he stated flatly. "

"It's not. I would have sent it to you somewhere if I knew where," you muttered. Jason knew you couldn't see it, but he rolled his eyes. 

"Seriously Angel, what is this? I don't feel like playing games."

"It's the information you wanted...plus a little extra." He tilted his head to the side with a deep sigh. "It's not a trap, I promise."

"You promise?" He asked, more incredulous than asking your confirmation. The promise didn't fit the tone of the confirmation at all, but you didn't seem to notice. 

"Cross my little heart," you added, gesturing in the air. 

"Fine, I'll give you five minutes." 

"Only five-"

"Starting now.” Jason didn’t have to say anything else, as you were already scrambling down the side of the building on the fire escape. He waited for about thirty seconds before he plugged the device in, scanning through the near empty drive and opening the audio file. Most of it really was just the info he needed, but towards the end it took a sharp turn into something else. 

“Right, so on to the main reason I decided to record this message. It’d probably better if I said this in person, but I have to admit that I’m afraid of the outcome. You could probably tell by now that there’s more to our relationship than just business. I was hoping by now that something might have happened, but I don’t think we’re there yet and I know it’s my fault... I think I need to be more daring to catch your attention, so this will be my confession…” There was a slight pause in the audio before Jason heard your voice chime in again. The scrambler you typically used was gone but there was a clear way of speaking that he recognized from talking to you over the past few nights. 

“The truth is that I’m in love with you, Red hood. And I know you probably don’t feel the same, but I can change that. It’s my fault you don’t see me that way yet, so from now on I’ll step up my game. I promise, you’ll be seeing much more of me soon, Jason.” 

It was easy to tell when Jason had finally finished listening to your audio tape. His impatience had been something you accounted for ahead of time, so even without the five extra minutes there was time to slip out of costume and into your apartment to watch him. There was a video feed streaming his movements on the rooftop, but you knew he could trace that. The receiver for that was set up on some car headed to the other side of the city to pose as a decoy. The audio message you’d left was five minutes long itself before you’d added the last bit where you expose your own knowledge. By the time he knew you knew, the entire roof was visible from the window of your apartment. 

His fists had clenched suddenly and there was a tenseness visible even from where you were. Peeping through the chipped paint of the window didn’t feel secure enough to hide your presence, so you tried to busy yourself with something else. You thought for sure that your plan would fall through and that he'd see through the decoy and appear in your apartment in a fury. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty; Then thirty; then a full hour. It seemed like it may have worked. Your nerves didn't completely wear off until the next morning. 

Laying low worked well enough with avoiding Jason. Your identity was hidden fairly well even though you hadn't masked yourself for the first few months of working with Penguin. Nobody really knew of you and your life had been so far from the underground life that it would be hard to narrow the search for you. After waiting a while for things to calm down, you finally came out of hiding and found the courage to move on. As expected, Jason was hot on your trail. The job you came out of hiding for was a small one for a lesser known gang that wouldn’t cause too many issues when he showed up. You knew he would. He was quicker than you thought, catching you before you’d even finished relaying the information you found. There was most likely a snitch in the gang or it was a trap from the jump that led him to you so quickly. Whatever the case was, he was there. That much you could tell by the commotion outside the space they set up for you. 

You were working out of an apartment building that was barely habitable, so the sounds of gunfire and shouting carried quickly through the thin walls. There was just enough time for you to slip out of the window of the bathroom and onto the fire escape before he was bursting in. In your defense, you at least made it to the alley beside the building before he finally caught up. 

“Well you’re a hard one to find, aren’t you,” he said, voice a deep timbre even through his helmet’s scrambler. You whipped around to face him, backing away as he came forward. He seemed to sense that you might run, so he took hold of your arm and held you in place. It was hard to tell if the leap of your heart was caused by love or fear. “It wasn’t very nice of you to drop your little bomb and run the last time we met.” 

“Can you blame me? You’re not a very fun person to be around when you’re angry.” 

“Yeah, and it’ll get a lot worse if you don’t start talking. Who the hell are you and how do you know who I am?” He was backing you up closer towards the edge of the roof and panic began to set in. This was definitely not a situation you wanted to be in. 

“That’s my line, isn’t it?” You took your free hand and quickly placed it onto the hand he was using to hold you in place. “At least it usually is when I’m at work.” 

“What-” He stopped suddenly, and you knew your plan had worked. The gloves you'd gotten from Oswald had that particular setting which could temporarily stun someone's nerves into freezing in place. Jason must have realized he couldn't move his arm when you grabbed him. The problem was that he was still holding your wrist and his hand was stunned closed.

"I was hoping you'd have calmed down by now, but it seems like you're still kind of mad."

"Kind of?!" He moved to swing or make a grab for you with his other hand, but you quickly grabbed it with your free hand and stopped it in mid air, grunting from the force of his swing. If he’d really been aiming to hit you, you prayed to god he didn’t try again. He’d only have to hit you once and you’d hit the ground. The tech working in him through his armor had been a huge gamble, especially since he could easily beat you in a fight. It seemed to be working, as he made a frustrated noise when you touched him. 

"This is a lot to process, I know, but I think I need to set some things straight." You weren't sure how long he'd stay stuck, so you tried wrenching your hand from his grip as fast as you could while you spoke.

"Firstly, I wouldn't expose your identity. That'd put you in danger and that's the last thing I want." He brought his knee up in what could have been an awful blow had you not caught him with reflexes that shocked even you. He growled as he fell forward slightly, leg bent and sending him into a half crouch. His imposing figure had shortened, but your heart was still hammering in your chest and your eyes were glued to him anxiously as you continued to try to free yourself.

"Secondly, I've been helping you all this time and I'd hate to have everything change because I was honest with you. I think we can still work together and figure out our relationship as we go. I don’t want to pressure you or anything.."

"Are you serious? You say you know who I am, but I don't think you understand. You're lucky you're even alive right now," he growled 

"That's a bit harsh-" Jason's first hand suddenly freeing and flying up to your throat cut off your sentence with a shocked yelp. His other limbs seemed to still be stuck, but he'd moved his grip from your arm to your neck in the blink of an eye. 

"Stun that and see what happens," he said. Your legs stumbled when he'd grabbed you, bringing you down to his level. Panic set in again and your mind raced trying to find a way out of his grip. His other limbs would be free soon too and by then you'd be toast. 

"Whoever you are, I am not the one to play games with. The only reason I didn't shoot you was because I know you're not a real threat. But if you keep messing with me-"

It was a stretch. A last resort you'd thought about but didn't conceivably think would work. Fight or flight had kicked in at that point, though and you did the only thing you could do. You reached for his helmet. 

Your racing mind had run through the logic after he grabbed you. If it worked, you would only have a split second to break free of his hold. His reflexes were extremely quick and your only real shot was the element of surprise. If it even worked. 

Your hand pressed suddenly against the forehead piece of his mask and you could see the flash of your gauntlets pushing electricity into it. There was a split moment where it seemed nothing would happen, but then the light behind his eye pieces suddenly went dark and the grip on your neck weakened. 

It could have been the panic or maybe how much practice had gone into the move, but you caught your footing, swiveled to the side and pushed his arm away. It was one of the self defense moves you had taken time to practice online, knowing it was better to at least try to learn something helpful. You heard Jason cursing, reaching out blindly for you now that his helmet seemed to have shut down momentarily. 

Not even a second had passed before you were taking off running. It had been clear that running down the fire escape or down the building wouldn't work anymore after your last encounter. As much as the idea turned your stomach, a grappling gun had been implemented into the newest prototype of your armor. When money had come in more frequently, the outfits put together during your first few months seemed to be insufficient. The new suit came with a lot of features that had seemed like a way to exploit more money out of you, but had turned out to be potentially life saving. The camouflage mode seeming the best at the moment. 

How long he stayed stunned was a mystery to you, but no time was wasted in making an escape. First, you put some distance between the two of you, heart in a panic as you swung across the Gotham skyline. Then, once you found a suitable place, you used another feature on the suit that allowed it to retract and easily removable to reveal your civilian clothes beneath. By then you needed to do nothing more than to blend in with the crowds of Gothamites in the chaos of a concert ending down the street. The plan had seemed impossible hours ago, but it seemed you were more capable than you had thought. Unfortunately, the plan had been a worst case scenario; meaning that you were in the same place you'd been with him before. Maybe even worse off than before. You had no idea what to do next now that he knew his secret identity had been exposed and his anger didn't seem to be letting up wother. All there was to do was to wait and try to come up with your next move, hoping he'd see reason with time...highly unlikely.


	7. Too Far Gone

Lost. That was how you felt now that Jason seemed to despise you. How could you fix this? The plan wasn’t going the way it was supposed to and now you were left scrambling to find a solution to the mess your life had become. Questions and anxiety swarmed your mind constantly, consuming every aspect of your life. Just thinking about how you left things made your heart drop with despair. Jason had still been furious after all the time you'd given him and it left you feeling lost and afraid that maybe all of that hard work had been for nothing. That the neon light on your heart burning his name might never exist in his with yours. That would be the absolute worst case scenario. You didn’t know what you would do then. You’d be in the dark. Alone again with the hole in your soul in the shape of him and no hope for something better. 

Work at the bookstore was bland and held little significance now. You didn’t care about anything there and the job served almost exclusively as a cover, your nightly activities awarding much more money than you’d ever made there. Much of the things you thought you cared about before were distant memories now. Jason had been important before, but now he was the only thing that mattered in your life now and it was up to you to save what ghost of a relationship you had with him. 

Running a hand over your neck, you winced at the memory of him cutting off your airway with his hand. He'd held on tight enough to bruise even through the protective layering in your suit, leaving a mark on your neck almost distinctly in the shape of a hand. Covering it up with a turtleneck was deemed necessary as the owner had begun pairing everyone up with another employee for each shift. Apparently she'd been thinking about doing it for a while and your incident had just been the last push for her to go through with the change. As much as she tried to make it as if the shift wasn't entirely your fault, you still felt responsibility for the second staff member having to share shifts with you and everyone else who doubled up. Thankfully, it seemed that your coworker valued the quiet thoughtfulness of the shop as much as you did and stuck to their post at the register while you worked on cleaning up some of the aisles. 

The books had been a mess, so it gave you plenty of time to search for a solution to your problems. The extra time didn't seem to be helping much though, as you felt as stuck before as you had been since that night. It only really served as a chance for you to drive yourself insane with stress and anxiety over the situation. The search for resolution had sent you so deep into your own thoughts that you missed your coworker calling your name the first two times it happened. It wasn’t until the third shout that you snapped out of your thoughts.

"C-coming!" You called out, stumbling over the pile of books scattered around you. The shock of suddenly coming out of your self-induced cage of panic had disoriented you and left you scrambling to get back to reality. 

"Thank god, I thought you might have fallen again," your coworker said. He had a teasing smile on his face, but your response was caught in your throat. Your eyes skipped over him entirely to the customer looking at you with an amused expression. 

"Seems like you need supervision now, huh?" Jason said, smiling. It was a different smile than the ones you'd seen before. It seemed tired and stressed out, fueled by politeness instead authentic amusement. His exhaustion seemed to not affect more than his smile, his eyes ringed with tiredness and his posture attentive, but more slack than you were used to. "You have any Hemmingway here?"

"S-sure, I can show you where it is," you stammered. You hesitated, walking down the wrong aisle more than once while trying to recollect your thoughts. Jason didn't seem to mind though, following along with dragging footsteps. When the right aisle finally came into view and you found the section the book was in, you had to fetch the ladder to grab it. 

"You sure you want to take a chance on that?" Jason suggested, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half smile. You glanced up at him, breath stuttering as you matched his gaze. It had been a long time since you’d seen his eyes in anything other than a picture. Your latest interactions had been intercepted by the cool metal of his helmet, but now you felt the full force of his gaze. Clearing your throat, you looked away, focusing on the ladder as you found your voice.

"Everybody acts like i’m clumsy, but you’re the one who scared me off of this thing," you said, voice quieter than you’d have liked. The ladder was set up on rollers, so you pushed it over to the section you thought the book was in, straining to see the spines of the books higher up on the shelf. It was when you had finally located the right spot and were preparing to move the ladder again that you noticed Jason suddenly moved towards you. 

Impulsively you jumped, stepping back until you hit the shelf of books and Jason was towering over you. His expression was serious, eyebrows knit together and he was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him. Before a coherent thought could even form in your mind, Jason's hand came up to tug down the fabric of your shirt, sending chills along the skin of your neck. 

"This looks recent," he said, but by then it was too late. His voice was deeper now, rough and laced with what you hoped was just anger. Reality came crashing down as you realized that he wasn't approaching you out of the passion you wished he'd had for you, but the passion he held towards his victims.

"By the looks of it, I'd say you got these bruises within the past twenty-four hours," he continued. He released the neck of your shirt without care and your heart stopped as his eyes met yours again. It had just happened minutes ago, but his gaze this time felt worlds away from how he’d looked at you before. His eyes were harsh and angry and dangerous in a way you never thought you'd see up close without the safety of his helmet protecting you from their intrusive gaze. "So are you gonna tell me where they came from, or do you want me to tell you where I think they're from?"

"They’re from my ex," you lied, glancing away from him to relieve the fear building in your chest. It was clear he'd already come to his conclusion as you attempted to slide away from him, but a part of you couldn’t drop the charade. Jason grabbed your shoulder, pressing you to the bookcase with a painful thud that kept you in place.. 

"I don't think so. I think you're someone I know a lot more than I thought," he growled, voice low. "I suggest you jump into your defense while I'm still letting you talk." Your eyes jumped across his features, looking for some discrepancy in the way he was acting. Attempting to call his bluff, you decided to remind him that you weren't entirely alone in the shop. 

"You wouldn’t kill me when my coworker is five bookcases away-" You choked, his hand flying up to grip your neck and forcing you into the book case. You imagined his hand fit perfectly into the outline of the bruise he'd given you the previous night. If he'd still had any doubt about your identity, that likely put them to rest as your hands shot up to cover his in a futile attempt to catch your breath.. 

"You want to test that theory? Because I've done a lot worse in front of a lot more people," he said. "Now start talking or you're going through the shelf." His hand loosened on your neck, but he didn't remove it entirely until you started coughing. 

"You obviously already know who I am, what do you want me to say?"

"I wanna know why the fuck a librarian is threatening my identity and playing games with red hood."

"I never threatened your identity," you replied, voice a harsh defensive whisper as your eyes shot up to meet his. "I wouldn't do that to you; I only said I knew who you are."

"Why?"

"I at least thought that part was obvious," you scoffed. A warning look from him told you he wasn't in the mood for smart-ass responses, so you rolled your eyes and clarified further. "I already told you everything on the tape."

"So what, you do all this shit because you think you're in love with me? Did you really think fucking with me would make me magically fall in love with you too?" The way he spoke, set fire to your entire being. Anger flashed through your mind and before you knew it, you were glaring at him with resentment. 

"Magically? How naive do you think I am? I'm a lot smarter than you give me credit for; How else do you think I climbed all the way up penguin's syndicate in four months?"

"Four months? You mean you did all of this to chase some stupid fantasy that started less than half a year ago? Threw your life away to chase a dream that's never going to happen?" 

"What else was I supposed to do?" You stepped forward, pushing off of the book shelf and standing straighter. Jason didn't budge, but you didn't care, craning your neck to glare into his eyes. "You didn't give a damn about me before I started this. You barely paid attention to my existence and when you did it lasted for what? A second before you moved on to the next thing? You didn’t even know who I was."

"Obviously I knew who you were-"

"Oh yeah?" You cut in. "What's my name?" Jason opened his mouth, but no sound managed to escape aside from a frustrated sigh as he glared at you. You tilted your head, pushing for an answer that you knew he didn't have. 

"That's what I thought. I did all of this for you. So you would give enough of a fuck about me to learn my name. Even if it was as someone else- someone I hated- I was willing to do it. I did so many awful things and hated myself so much just for you to learn some stupid nickname Penguin’s crew made up. It was worth it though, because it worked. You may not know my real name, but I bet you know that one."

"And you think getting on my hit list is some kind of improvement?"

"Love and hate are a lot closer to each other than indifference," you said, leaning back onto the shelf again. "This was the only way I'd ever stand out against the superheroes you like to spend your time fucking on rooftops." Jason's eyes widened, his expression faltering as he took a step back. 

"How did you-"

"You think I just chose to meet you on that rooftop randomly? I saw you that night and it broke me. How do you think it feels watching the guy you've been falling in love with fucking someone else right outside your apartment?"

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” He said, his voice a whisper but fueled with anger. “That you fed into your own delusions long enough to form this- this obsession and that you let it drive you into working for low lives like Penguin. You know, I won’t even have to do anything to you if the cops find out what you’ve been up to. Regardless of whatever record you had before, you’re going away for a long fucking time."

"Please; I’m sure my list of crimes is shorter than half of the police force. And I've only ever hurt criminals, which is more than you could say." His fists clenched at his sides and you could see his breathing grow heavier. Your words were getting to him and it was very clear that they were pissing him off. That didn't stop you, though as you continued pressing his buttons. 

"I bet you can’t even count how many people died that night when you took over the city as Arkham Knight. Innocent people. You think you’re any better than me because you decided to go through a costume change? That’s fucking rich.” You were left in silence as Jason looked at you, obviously seething. How you could say something so cruel was beyond you, but once again your negative emotions had taken the wheel and this time you knew he wouldn’t be able to pull you back from that ledge.

"You're gonna stop this," Jason said finally, eyes dark. "The only outcome at the end of this road is you in a coffin. If I ever hear about the Fallen Angel or whatever name you decide to go by running around this city again, I will kill you. Letting you live like this is already a luxury most don't get, so don't fucking push me." 

And then he was gone. Storming out of the shop and leaving your coworker confused and worried as he came back to check on you. You waved his questions off, telling him you needed a break as you left in the direction of the bathrooms. Once inside, you looked in the mirror to see that tears had been streaming down your face. Grabbing fistfulls of the shirt you were wearing, you turned your head down and screamed into it, not caring who heard you. 

Who the fuck did Jason think he was? He came into your store and had the nerve to threaten and attack you instead of taking responsibility for his own actions. How did he expect you to react when he treated you like garbage. Not even. At least garbage held enough attention to be taken out. He treated you like you were nothing. Even now, the way he looked at you and the way he just told you to drop everything proved he didn’t think anything of you. Your entire being burned, but instead of with love it was with something else. Something more powerful that made you want to make him hurt. It was the same thing that took hold of you when you lost control of yourself and the same thing that drove you to come up with a new plan. If there was love for Jason in your heart somewhere, it was drowned out by blinding hatred. The kind that made it impossible to care about anything or anyone who might get in your way. The kind that screamed for revenge.


	8. Love and Hate

Jason knew you should have been dead. He should have killed you the first time he’d heard about your alias as an up and coming villain in the city. Anyone gaining fame as quickly as you had through Gotham’s criminal underground could be a thorn in his side if he didn’t get ahead of it, and that was exactly what you did. He should have done something. Even if he hadn’t killed you, at the very least you should have known to follow his rules or face his punishments. Maybe he was cocky and underestimated you, or maybe he was just too overwhelmed. Whatever the case may have been. It was too late now. Not only did you know his identity, but you were very enraged. He could tell that you were angry at the bookstore, but he didn’t know exactly how angry you were until he saw it burn down three weeks later. 

For a while he thought you had listened. You’d disappeared, gone from the criminal underground for nearly a month. He should have known that wouldn’t be the end of things. At the very least, he did his research. He found your name and past, reading up on whatever bit of information he could find. You really didn’t have a criminal record before any of this, barely even having a social media presence. You didn’t have any family that he could find information on and it seemed your life was basic; graduating college and finding work at the bookstore he’d met you in. He found records of your apartment, and true to your word it was positioned almost directly in front of that rooftop. Thinking about that night, Jason wondered what had driven him to even hook up in the open like that. He’d known it had been risky, but never could he have imagined something like this happening over a meaningless fling he’d initiated on an impulsive thought. If he’d known what would happen, he might not have even done it. None of it was worth all of the drama and the carnage you seemed hell bent on creating. The book store seemed to only be the beginning though as he found one of your infamous flash drives across the street in a spray painted broken heart. 

"To the one and only Jason Peter Todd," he scowled at the mention of his full name, feeling a chill run down his spine at the bitter edge to your voice. "A while ago, you told me you didn't think I fit being a criminal and I've been thinking about that a lot. After all this shit I've done, you still think I'm a joke. After everything, you think this was some silly game for me. Like I was some kid obsessed with their new toy that they’d get bored of after a week. That’s not me at all. I thought that if I showed you how much I cared, you would see that I was the one for you. I would have done anything for you, but you threw that all away and threw me to the side without a second thought. I could sit here for hours and tell you all the ways you broke my heart...but I’d rather show you. Maybe if you put enough thought into how I felt, you’ll be able to save some more people from your black hole of despair. If you’re listening to this on schedule, then I should be setting the timer for the bomb I left in the place where I felt my heart break for the first time.”

The rooftop. That was the first place Jason thought to check. It was only a few minutes away from the remains of the book store so he crossed the distance in half the time using his grapple. When he arrived, he thought he’d see you there and that he’d put an end to your temper tantrum. His mind was heavy with regret and despair over what he’d do if more people were hurt because he was too lenient with you. He couldn’t let you go again if this was what happened the first time. Batman may be dead set on allowing criminals to reopen the same wounds on the city over and over, but Jason wasn’t. He gave you too many chances already, and he wasn’t about to give you another one. Unfortunately, he ended up in the wrong spot. 

Looking around frantically and using his detective vision, he searched for any sign he could of your whereabouts. For any evidence that would show you’d been there or that there was a bomb somewhere nearby. He wasted about five minutes looking around that awful rooftop until his sensors picked up on you. You weren’t on the rooftop. You were in another building entirely. One with a perfect view of where he was standing. The window he would have looked through to see you was obscured, but he could see your form with his helmet as you were tapping at your wrist to indicate that he was running out of time. 

By the time Jason reached your apartment, you were gone. He’d flown in through the window, but even then you’d made your escape. He might’ve been able to catch up to you had he not needed to diffuse the explosive situated in your apartment. That only took him about five minutes, but he knew you’d disappeared. Judging by the flash drive situated on the kitchen counter, he’d have to follow another tip to your next location. Pressing the device into his helmet, he awaited your next message. 

“If you’ve got this message, then it looks like you stopped the explosion and survived. Good for you. Now you can hear my side of the story. I tried to recreate that night as best I could, but I did a good job cleaning it up.” Jason looked around the room, eyes scanning over the broken glass and destroyed cotton surrounding the living room. His eyes caught on the remnants of the shattered window he’d come in through, picking one up to examine the beige paint coated on one of its sides. 

“This was the first time I felt the gravity of my love for you. Ugh, I hate to even say that now, but that’s the truth. When I saw you that night, it tore a hole into my soul. I could barely breathe and I destroyed everything I could see until my hands were bleeding and I drank enough to see stars. I think you asked me about it the next day at the bookstore. I remember that I just told you I cut myself cooking and you didn'tsay another word about it. I guess if you cared, you’d have known that was a lie.” 

Admittedly, that day was a vague memory in his mind. Jason had truly forgotten that moment, swept up in his own drama to notice that you had been lying. He knew he was fighting with Bruce at the time and that he’d been thinking about what happened the previous night with Artemis. There was a subtle feeling of guilt over having overlooked the interaction, ignoring the signs that something might have been going on in favor of dealing with his own problems. He steeled himself against feeling that guilt though, reminding himself that you we’re currently on a rampage throughout the city. He paused to rewind the tape to catch what he had missed while thinking about what you had said. 

“The next stop down memory lane is the place where I-well as you put it- threw my life away. That part I know you weren’t there for, so I’ll give you another hint. It’s where you saw the real me for the first time.” 

The iceberg lounge. It had been relatively quiet since Oswald was currently in Blackgate. HIs crew had maintained some of their activities, but most of them were too afraid after the most recent bust the two of you had done. There was still typical lounge business going on, but the illegal doings had been put to a halt until their leader returned. 

When Jason came in, he didn’t waste time taking changing into civilian clothes. The entire mood of the club seemed to shift as he came in; the live music even coming to a halt as he stepped inside. Your message hadn’t given much information aside from that your next clue would be at the lounge. Deciding he’d rather be safe than sorry, Jason planned to evacuate the place. His plans were cut short as one of the men sitting at the bar came up to him. Jason was about to tell him to get the hell out of the way when he caught sight of the neon heart drawn on the chest of his button down shirt. 

“Red Hood, follow me or the outcome will not be good.” Jason might have asked the guy why he was trying so hard to be poetic about the request, but the faraway look in his eye answered the question for him. Shitty rhymes and hypnosis were the specialty of a Gotham criminal he hated dealing with. Jervis Tetch was the Alice in Wonderland obsessed maniac who no doubt fell into line with whatever plan you had for the city. Jason wasn't sure how you'd enlisted his help or what the plan was, but the involvement of other well known criminals was a bad sign. He dreaded the possibility that Tetch wasn't the only one involved, but he couldn't afford to waste any more time. For now he followed the man into the kitchen and then into the freezer Oswald had once locked himself into. 

The freezer was much larger than Jason thought it would be, stretching out into a moderately sized room. There were shelves lined up along the walls with boxes and bottles stacked up in neat rows and a chair settled in the center with a tablet set upon it. The man walked over to the chair with a dreamlike state and retrieved the device. He held his hand out until Jason took it, then turned and left with a blank expression. 

Annoyed and anxious that you weren't there, Jason turned on the device and a video was pulled up on the screen. It was taken in a selfie style with your masked face glaring into the camera. 

"No wonder vloggers have all that lighting shit. I can't see a damn thing," there was shuffling and then you were yelling at someone to hit the lights. Jason's heart dropped when the light finally came on and he saw a flash of red hair. 

"Much better. But this angle sucks too. Where's my stand?" Jason clenched the tablet, damn near breaking it as you passed the camera to Artemis, staring blankly somewhere over the phone. "Check out my new friend. She's so nice; she'll do anything I ask her to do. We're bonding over how you're such an asshole. What do you think about little red riding hood, Artemis?" At your words, it was like she snapped out of a trance, eyes focusing in and turning to you as a scowl fell over her face. 

"He's selfish heartbreaking prick." Her words held real malice that Jason knew was uncharacteristic. When Artemis finished speaking, you nodded in agreement, failing to conceal a triumphant smile.

"I agree. He's inconsiderate too. Put all your effort into doing shit for him and he tells you to fuck off. What an asshole."

"Guys like that are the scum of the Earth.” 

“Exactly. And what do you think should happen to guys like that?” Jason hoped Artemis would break free of whatever control you had over her. She was strong. He could see her snapping out of that trance and saying something witty and taking you down herself. If that had happened, that night would have gone so much easier. 

“I think they should suffer.” The video cut to black suddenly and an address appeared on the screen in plain white letters. Jason didn’t know the location exactly, but he knew it was nowhere near where he was currently. He replayed the video, searching for some hint to where you’d taken Artemis. It looked like some kind of warehouse, so he searched every pixel of the screen to find some hint as to where you’d gone. The door to the freezer opening had him spinning around, prepared to attack if need be. Instead of an attacker, he saw the entranced man again. He stopped in the doorway, looking somewhere over Jason’s shoulder. 

“Time you have not to waste, the girl’s location has changed and you must make haste.” Another thing Jason should have known. He underestimated you once again, thinking you’d be careless enough to give any hints to your location. The video must have been pre-recorded and Artemis must have been moved to another location. One he had no information on aside from the address left on the tablet. 

Growling, Jason pushed past the entranced man, pressing the tablet into his chest and left the iceberg lounge. He made his way to the location, panic seeping further and further into his being. You had clearly thought this night out more thoroughly than he’d anticipated and you found a way to make yourself dangerous. He thought you’d bring him to a rooftop or to a warehouse like the one in the video. Somewhere you had an easy chance to disappear as you typically had. He was shocked to arrive at an empty beach. By then, it was late into the night and the ocean was entirely black, light waves rolling onto the sand highlighted by the city and the stars. There was a figure sitting in the sand a few yards away from the entrance to the beach. He recognized you as soon as you stood, crossing the distance with a scowl behind his mask.

“About fucking time. You’d think someone who acts so high and mighty could follow a simple scavenger hunt on time. I even gave you an extra five minutes in the schedule." Jason stopped in front of you, seething with anger. He saw the glow of your shocking gauntlets and recalled the time you’d disarmed him with them. He knew he could fight just as well without the input of his helmet, but he didn’t want to take any chances with you getting away again. Without a word, he detached his helmet from the rest of his suit, taking it off and throwing it into the sand beside you. 

“You’ve gotten on my nerves for the last time, Angel. Tell me what you’re planning or I won’t be as nice as I could be when I take you out.” he growled. You rolled your eyes, clicking your tongue to the top of your mouth with an unimpressed expression. If he was following his emotions, Jason would have killed you on sight. He knew that would have been too easy though, as you had all but given him the gun to kill you with by bringing him out alone to such a secluded. There had to be a reason to not fear meeting him and until he figured that out, Jason kept his anger at bay. 

"Huh, I thought you wore another mask under that one." 

"I thought I'd be a gentleman about it and let you look me in my eyes when I kill you," Jason replied. You raised your eyebrows, feigning shock at his words with a hand over your chest. 

“Kill me? Why would you kill me when I have a heart rate monitor connected to the dozens of explosives hidden around the city?” There it was. He should have known it would be a dead man's switch. The one thing that would keep him from completing the threats he'd been making for so long. He felt like a complete failure. You had the city in one hand and one of the only people in the world that trusted him in the other.

“Disarm the bombs.” 

“No.”

“Now, y/n.”

“Oh now you know my name, huh? I guess all it took was an abduction and bombs planted across half of the city.” Jason watched you sigh, raising the heart monitor on your arm to the moonlight. “I don’t think I will, though. You are the one always saying I’m lucky to be alive. I think I need a little insurance around you-” 

His finger had pressed into the trigger against his better judgement. He saw you jerk back, moving too fast for your legs to catch up. You crashed into the sand beneath you, falling roughly onto the shoulder Jason had hit. He heard you curse in pain as you hit the ground, and was honestly shocked that he'd had the composure to avoid a fatal shot. He breathed a sigh of anger, attempting to calm himself somewhat. Until he figured out how to disconnect your heart rate from the bombs set up around the city, he couldn’t kill you. He couldn’t even knock you out without knowing just how sensitive the monitor was. The limitations frustrated him, drawing him towards you with a scowl. He crouched low to the ground beside you, dragging you up into a half-sitting position by your uninjured arm. He’d holstered his second gun, but kept the first in his hand, pointed inches away from your exposed face. 

“I don’t have to kill you,” he growled. “Disarm. The fucking. Bombs.”

“Make. Me,” you replied, gritting your teeth in pain. Jason could tell there were tears in your eyes, but your resolve didn’t falter with his show of aggression. “Do your worst; I want to see how creative you can get.”

“This game is over. You lost. Now end your little tantrum or the next one goes into your hand. Then your arm. I’ll shoot every non-lethal spot I can find until you do what I tell you to do.” 

“Fuck off, Todd. You don’t tell me what to do. This is over when I say it’s over; not when you decide you’re done playing. It’s my turn to dictate how this goes.”

“Fine then, set the terms. What do you want?”

“I want you to suffer. I want you to decide who matters more in this city. If the bombs don’t go off in eight minutes, my friend will waste yours. If they do go off, she’s free to go and you’re free to live with the weight of hundreds of dead innocents weighing on your chest for the rest of your life. I mean, hundreds more weighing on your chest.”

“You really think your friends could kill an Amazon?” Jason replied, tightening his grip on your arm. He knew Artemis could hold her own better than he could. His hope was dwindling, but he tried to hang on to his fsith in her abilities. 

“Well no, but Jervis did say she would know how to do it better than any of us,” you replied, and Jason felt his hope shatter further and further as you continued speaking. "And as for the bombs, I had a certain Mr. Nygma set them up so I wouldn't take a chance on messing with them. Especially considering you're apparently not the brightest bat in the bunch." Jason grit his teeth, shoving you away and into the sand. You hit the ground with a grunt, but Jason wasn’t looking at you anymore. He had turned around, arms crossed over the back of his neck as he swore. He couldn't remember the last time he’d felt truly this helpless. As much as he knew about hacking and diffusing bombs, Nygma would know more. He was always ten steps ahead, and Jason couldn’t afford to gamble with Riddler’s tech when he was already almost out of time. Warm jittery panic seeped into his heart, his pulse beating erratically in his ears as he closed his eyes. What could he do? He was almost out of time. Artemis or hundreds of innocent people? How could he make that kind of decision? No matter what their relationship was, Artemis was still one of his only friends and he couldn’t just let her die because of something he let get out of hand. He also couldn’t let so many other people die for his mistakes either. What could he do?

Five minutes.

Jason turned around suddenly, mind a chaotic mess of thoughts and hopeless ideas. You were still lying on the ground, chest heaving as you stared up at the stars with a tense expression. You might bleed out if he didn’t stop the blood from pouring out of your arm. He didn’t know if the bombs would still go off if he ran out of time and you passed out afterwards. That might be the worst case scenario. If he let everyone die. He had to make you put a stop to it. You were the only one in a position to stop the others from killing Artemis without the bombs going off. The only way he could think of changing your mind was by rushing forwards and dropping into the sand beside you. He yanked you up by your good arm again, pulling you forward and kissing you like his life depended on it while in the back of his mind wishing that it was just his life.

You were in shock for seconds that passed like minutes until Jason felt you trying to jerk away. His hand was a vice grip along your forearm, his grip strong enough to likely leave a bruise to match the one along your neck. Though your arm was held captive in his grip, your legs were free enough to kick him and somehow you mustered enough strength to kick him away. There was a look of rage that took over your features as you looked at him, breath ragged and tearing at your chest. 

“Call it off. If you want me to be in love with you, then I’ll do it. Just call them and tell them to let her go and I'll do whatever you want.” There was a look in your eyes that matched the one you'd given Oswald that night the two of you sent him to Blackgate. You looked like you could kill him, but somehow he knew you wouldn't.

“Fuck you! I don’t want you to love me anymore. I hate you! Don’t you understand that?! Do you think I’d do all of this if I still gave a fuck about you?!”

“Obviously you do!" Jason countered, forcing himself to hide the desperation in his voice. "You said it yourself; hate and love are a lot closer than indifference. If you really didn’t give a fuck about me, then you wouldn’t be doing all of this to hurt me.”

“I don’t. Fucking. Love you, Jason.” 

“You do.”

“I don’t! I hate you! I hate you so much I can’t even think about anything else besides making you hurt like I do!” You were screaming at him by then, but Jason didn’t stop. This was his only chance and he couldn’t let it go without a fight; even if it worsened the situation you were in.

Four minutes

“If that’s true, then why Artemis? You know my identity, so you could have chosen anyone to make up the second half of your plan. It would have been so much easier for you to choose somebody else. She’s an Amazon. You chose her for a reason.”

“Stop.Talking.” Jason caught your arm as you swung it at him, dragging you back towards him. You struggled before shouting in pain as you tried to use your injured arm. Jason caught that one easily too and held you firmly in place as he continued.

“You chose her because she meant something to me. Something that you knew you’d never be. And you’re jealous and this is your way of getting back at her. Would somebody who doesn’t give a fuck about me anymore do something like that?”

“I wish you would just fucking die. Let me go, you piece of shit,” you protested, voice cracking. It was working. You were getting frantic now, meaning his words were getting to you. It would only take a little more pushing. 

Three minutes

“y/n!”

“Stop! Why are you doing this now? Why can’t you just let me hate you. You’re the reason i’m like this! You’re the reason I feel so empty and broken! You’re the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

“I know! It'smy fault and I-...i’m sorry…” Jason didn’t expect to put any sincerity into his words. Everything he’d been saying before was to get you to stop your plans, but it was then that he said something he actually meant. Looking down at you, he felt the hints of guilt tugging at the back of his mind grow into actual pity. You couldn’t even look at him anymore, eyes screwed shut and your head bowed before him. 

“You’re not.You don’t care. You never did and you never will. I’m not stupid, I know why you’re saying all of this. You’re manipulative and you’ll use me to get what you want then kill me.”

Two minutes.

“I am sorry, y/n. I...I know what it’s like to feel ruined and empty inside. You know I do.” You were shaking your head now, your breathing labored and your chest shaking with tears. “You also know that putting this city into chaos isn’t going to help either. You can’t erase shit like this from your soul. It sits with you forever. Everything I did as Arkham Knight is going to haunt me forever, you were right about that. But if you do this, it’ll haunt you too. Whatever I did to you, don’t put yourself through what I did for revenge. Call it off.”

The words flowed out of his mouth as of Jason had been holding them at the back of his mind for ages. Maybe he had to some extent. The sincerity in his words brought the realization for why his actions involving you had been stuck as "should have" scenarios. He saw the worst version of himself replaying in front of him. The same pain and anger he'd felt were being thrown right back at him and he hadn't even realized it. Maybe some part of him did and that was why he could never commit to killing you, but it wasn't until right then that his apprehension had reason. You falling in love with him wasn't his fault, Jason knew that, but how could he ignore any kind of responsibility when he'd blamed Bruce for leaving him with Joker when the truth had been manipulated by the distorted clown. Knowing you were in the same situation he'd been in was like a knife going through his chest, but Jason knew he was the one person who might be able to help. 

You didn’t respond to his words at first, head resting against Jason’s shoulder. His heart felt like it had stopped, wondering how much time was left for the ultimatum. Then, just as his panic reached a climax, your free hand moved to your right ear. Jason watched as you pressed your finger against some hidden communicator, clearing your throat before speaking. 

“Change of plans. Tell her to go home and forget everything that happened.” There was silence for a moment as Jason felt his heartbeat resume in an unsteady rhythm. “I know what I said! I’m still fucking paying you, so what does it matter? Just do what I told you to do and shut the fuck up” You ripped the ear piece out fo your ear, throwing it off into the distance and pushing away from Jason. This time he let you, releasing your arms and allowing you to fall back onto the sand. He watched you enter some long password into the watch, eventually pulling it off and throwing it to him. 

He didn't know what to say at first, watching you breathe in tense silence. There was blood continuing to stream out of your shoulder, but you were more focused on wiping the tears spilling out of your eyes. Jason waited a minute or so before he spoke, his voice softer than he'd heard it in a long time.

“Thank you,” he said. He wasn't sure what to do after that. He knew that as much as he should, he wouldn't kill you. In a way, he felt like you were a second chance to do the right thing. He didn't have anyone to stop him from destroying a part of himself as the Arkham Knight, but he was able to talk you out following that same path. Now he didn't know where to go. His mind ran wild searching for an answer, but it seemed you found your own. Without looking at him, Jason heard you speak finally, your voice rough and void of emotion. If he thought he'd solved the problem, the broken edge to your voice told him otherwise, cemented with the hopeless content of your words. 

“Take me to Arkham.”


End file.
